One of my annual traditions is the Millburn President's Cup 5-K, held at night on the third Monday in June every year. It's grown into one of the largest races in the state, and always gets a real competitive field.
In addition, I grew up in the neighboring town of Springfield, nad always see people I grew up with. I also am a loyal patron of The Sneaker Factory, sponsor of the event,and usually get a little extra adrenaline with the big (1500-plus) crowd and night-time atmosphere. My son has run it the past few years as well, but had to pass it up this time, due to an eighth-grade graduation party.
My goal (as stated in my previous blog), was to get back in the 19-minute range, after a 20:17 finish in the Bob Beckert Run on June 6th. My parents, brother, and niece came down to cheer me on in this one, and my mind-set was positive going into it.
I lined up right in-between the six-minute and seven-minute pace signs, which, considering I wanted to run about 6:25 per mile, was proper. Once there, hundreds of runners, some considerably older than me, and many in thier pre-teens, squeezed in front of me. There were also corporate teams huddled there, with the entrants truly spanning the gamut of age and conditioning. I knew I'd have to fight through the crowd.
Sure enough, I weaved and elbowed my way through the start, with one man, easily in his 70's (with a pace to match) yelling as I squeezed past him in the mass of humanity. I didn't have the time or inclination to answer, but thought: "why did you start near the front of the race, then!"
As the participants weaved onto Millburn Ave., I finally was able to get (in NASCAR parlance) "clean air." I felt good, and told myself that no one will pass me, and I will try to pick off runners one at a time.
The first mile was a a somewhat disappointing 6:30, but my body felt fresh, with the chaos at the start perhaps saving some "fuel" (one more NASCAR referance)in my body. I trucked up the incline through Millburn center, able to keep with my "game plan."
I was happy with my two-mile split of 12:50, meaning my second mile was a 6:20, and I was still relatively fresh. I knew breaking 20 was feasible, if I kept my concentration and my form.
Millburn is a two-loop race, with the finish line about a 1/4 mile past the start. The first year I ran, I didn't realize that, timed my sprint a little early, and was really sucking wind as the finishing clock was not in sight!
By now, I'm familiar with it, and put on a "controlled" sprint at the end as I was pretty confident my goal was at hand. Sure enough,I crossed the line in 19:50 (heart rate at finish: 172), good for 115th overall. I'm used to winning my age-group now in most local races, but in this one, I wasn't even in the top three!
That's okay, though. I got the time I was looking for, my heart-rate was high enough to indicate I gave a total effort, and knowing there's that many good runners at my (late middle-aged) point of life will give me further motivation to keep up my training. Onward and upward!
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Bob Beckert Run 2011
One of my traditional races every year is the Bob Beckert Memorial 5-K at Watchung Hills High School, held on the first Sunday of June. It attracts between 200-300 local runners, including many kids on the Watchung Hills track and cross-country teams. Im a hot weather runner, and the temperature normally is in the high 70's to low 80's.
It's somewhat old-school, with no visible mile-markers or splits, so it's up to you to go out and "git r' done!"
This year, I couldn't run for the ten days preceding the race, as I was recovering from cataract surgery. Luckily, I was able to do the bike and elliptical, so I didn't feel I lost too much conditioning. Plus, I was in a good mood when the doctor told me everything was healing fine, and I could resume "normal" activity.
Coming off a half-marathon the previous month, I knew I would have to push the pace harder in a short race, and I feel I did, staying within sight of the lead pack most of the way. I passed a few of the high school kids, and no one overtook me, always a good sign that you are not "rigging." My focus was good, and no problems with legs, stomach, or any other areas.
I've done the race enough times to divide it into sections, and coming up the final long stretch on Mountain Ave., I was confident I was in the low to mid 19-minute range.
The race ends with a 1/4-mile steep incline up the high school parking lot. About halfway up, I heard the race announcer reading off "19:45, 19:46..." I knew I couldn't break 20 minutes at this point, but still took the hill hard and finished in 20:12, seventh overall and first in my (50-59 age-group). I took my heart rate about 20 seconds after finishing, and it read 167, so I knew I ran as hard as I could on this particular day.
No complaints, and it felt very appreciative that I was able to run so quickly after surgery. I'll get back in the "19:OO's" soon enough.
It's somewhat old-school, with no visible mile-markers or splits, so it's up to you to go out and "git r' done!"
This year, I couldn't run for the ten days preceding the race, as I was recovering from cataract surgery. Luckily, I was able to do the bike and elliptical, so I didn't feel I lost too much conditioning. Plus, I was in a good mood when the doctor told me everything was healing fine, and I could resume "normal" activity.
Coming off a half-marathon the previous month, I knew I would have to push the pace harder in a short race, and I feel I did, staying within sight of the lead pack most of the way. I passed a few of the high school kids, and no one overtook me, always a good sign that you are not "rigging." My focus was good, and no problems with legs, stomach, or any other areas.
I've done the race enough times to divide it into sections, and coming up the final long stretch on Mountain Ave., I was confident I was in the low to mid 19-minute range.
The race ends with a 1/4-mile steep incline up the high school parking lot. About halfway up, I heard the race announcer reading off "19:45, 19:46..." I knew I couldn't break 20 minutes at this point, but still took the hill hard and finished in 20:12, seventh overall and first in my (50-59 age-group). I took my heart rate about 20 seconds after finishing, and it read 167, so I knew I ran as hard as I could on this particular day.
No complaints, and it felt very appreciative that I was able to run so quickly after surgery. I'll get back in the "19:OO's" soon enough.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Long Branch Half-Marathon
Each Spring, I enter a Half-Marathon, to gauge my fitness level at a long-distance race, and give me a training goal through the doldrums of winter. This year, I returned to one of my favorite courses, the Long Branch half-Marathon, held on May 1st.
Because of the weather, most of my training for this race is on the treadmill, and I did plenty of "pace work" at 7 minute miles, my goal for this race. I also did quite a bit of speedwork at 6 t0 6:30-minute paces for mile repeats, and a few 10-mile runs.
I felt mentally and physically ready, and the day came up sunny and warm, just the way I like. I felt fine warming up, and definitely felt capable of a 1:30 to 1:31 effort.
Prudently, I mixed in with a "pace leader" and group aiming for a 1:30 finish. Our first mile felt comfortably hard, and we passed the clock in 6:35, much faster than we planned.
We slowed to seven-minute pace at that point, and frankly, it felt like walking! Still, I stayed disciplined, traded leads with others, and remained at that pace.
At around the five-mile mark, a guy who looked at least my 52 years of age blazed by us. Feeling great, my competitiveness and stupidity then got the best of me.
I left my group behind and tried to stick with the older runner, figuring we were probably battling for first-place in our 50-59 age-group. He surged ahead of me about a mile later, and now I was on my own.
I managed seven-minute pace for the next few miles, but without the ease I felt amongst the group. Plus, the half-marathoners were beginning to mix with back-of-the packers of the accompanying Jersey Shore Marathon, which started 30 minutes earlier.
Instead of open road, now we were dodging between large groups of walkers and joggers, which seemed to destroy my mental concentration.
At around nine miles, my right hip and hamstring began to tighten up as well, and now it just became a case of survival, with the rapid early pace clearly taking a toll on my body. The group I left behind five miles back now passed me.
The last three miles were into a strong headwind, and no matter how I tried to mentally battle through, I couldn't muster up anything better than a limping 7:30 pace. At that moment,I couldn't run a second faster, and vowed not beat myself up over a lack of perceived effort.
It mercifully ended with me crossing the line in 1:33.07 (7:03 pace), fourth in my age-group (out of 241) and 91st overall in a field of close to 7000.
I shouldn't be bummed, and really am not. You can't fault yourself for going for it when you feel good, although I always tell others to just worry about your pace and not about anyone else. In my enthusiasm and hubris, I broke my own cardinal rule.
Oh, the older guy who passed me and tooik me off my game-plan? He's actually 60 and won his age-group in 1:29 and change. Tremendous, and I'll see you next year!
Because of the weather, most of my training for this race is on the treadmill, and I did plenty of "pace work" at 7 minute miles, my goal for this race. I also did quite a bit of speedwork at 6 t0 6:30-minute paces for mile repeats, and a few 10-mile runs.
I felt mentally and physically ready, and the day came up sunny and warm, just the way I like. I felt fine warming up, and definitely felt capable of a 1:30 to 1:31 effort.
Prudently, I mixed in with a "pace leader" and group aiming for a 1:30 finish. Our first mile felt comfortably hard, and we passed the clock in 6:35, much faster than we planned.
We slowed to seven-minute pace at that point, and frankly, it felt like walking! Still, I stayed disciplined, traded leads with others, and remained at that pace.
At around the five-mile mark, a guy who looked at least my 52 years of age blazed by us. Feeling great, my competitiveness and stupidity then got the best of me.
I left my group behind and tried to stick with the older runner, figuring we were probably battling for first-place in our 50-59 age-group. He surged ahead of me about a mile later, and now I was on my own.
I managed seven-minute pace for the next few miles, but without the ease I felt amongst the group. Plus, the half-marathoners were beginning to mix with back-of-the packers of the accompanying Jersey Shore Marathon, which started 30 minutes earlier.
Instead of open road, now we were dodging between large groups of walkers and joggers, which seemed to destroy my mental concentration.
At around nine miles, my right hip and hamstring began to tighten up as well, and now it just became a case of survival, with the rapid early pace clearly taking a toll on my body. The group I left behind five miles back now passed me.
The last three miles were into a strong headwind, and no matter how I tried to mentally battle through, I couldn't muster up anything better than a limping 7:30 pace. At that moment,I couldn't run a second faster, and vowed not beat myself up over a lack of perceived effort.
It mercifully ended with me crossing the line in 1:33.07 (7:03 pace), fourth in my age-group (out of 241) and 91st overall in a field of close to 7000.
I shouldn't be bummed, and really am not. You can't fault yourself for going for it when you feel good, although I always tell others to just worry about your pace and not about anyone else. In my enthusiasm and hubris, I broke my own cardinal rule.
Oh, the older guy who passed me and tooik me off my game-plan? He's actually 60 and won his age-group in 1:29 and change. Tremendous, and I'll see you next year!
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