a streak happily broken

With the Runner's World Holiday Run Streak currently underway, runners all across the country are making the pledge to run at least one mile every day between Thanksgiving and New Year's; I myself am among those attempting the 35 day challenge. I've gone on a streak a few times in my running career, and every time I've done one, whether long or short, I've always found it exciting to feel the tensions mount as the desire to not break the streak grows stronger with each passing day. Despite the benefits and the fun challenge that a running streak can provide though, there is one streak that I was very happy to break at this year's turkey trot on Thanksgiving morning.

As I mentioned before, I have run the same turkey trot around Rockland Lake near my hometown in New York for the past six years, and due to some combination of failing to properly train and requiring more effort to experience fitness gains these days, my finishing time has gotten slower each year. I knew that I was better prepared for the distance than I had been in the past few years though, but I had been running my training runs slowly and I wasn't feeling very confident in being able to post a faster time. I was fully prepared to just cruise through the race and celebrate the fact that I would be able to complete the distance without injuring myself, but as my friend and I were standing at the starting line, I told him about the downward trend in our times and he became committed to ending the streak right then and there.

We ran the first mile fairly slowly to warm up, but from there, my overly determined running buddy began pulling me along and steadily increasing the pace. We were running each mile faster than the one before it, and by the final mile I was really struggling to keep up. The pace was becoming more and more unsustainable, and just when I wanted to slow down most, we rounded the corner into the final stretch. The seconds on the clock ticked by, but I knew if I just held on a little bit longer the streak would be broken.

We ended up completing the 5 mile course and triumphantly crossing the finish line in 48:11, just about three minutes faster than our time from the previous year. With the streak of slower finishes finally meeting its demise, it seems only logical that the goal be to flip the trend. I'm sure a streak in which I get faster each year won't last nearly as long as the one where I got slower, but here's to a faster trot in 2014.

a perfectly timed delivery

As soon as we arrived home from work yesterday, my wife and I began packing up the car for the long drive up to New York for Thanksgiving with my family. Once the last piece of luggage had been loaded and the house had undergone its final inspection, we hopped into the car and started it up. While I was happy to be making the trip to see friends and family, I couldn't help but be disappointed in the fact that Vivobarefoot seemed to have broken their promise to deliver my shoes before our departure.

With the forecast calling for freezing temperatures and the remote possibility of snow on Thanksgiving, I dreaded the idea of having to run the turkey trot in sandals, but a number of shipping delays and complications with my order resulted in a predicament where having to do just that was becoming a very real possibility. While Vivobarefoot was very good about acknowledging the problems that they had caused and had assured me that their latest attempt at sending the shoes would arrive before we left on our trip, it was looking rather unlikely. Just as we pulled out of our driveway though, a UPS truck pulled in. We turned the car around, and met the delivery driver just in time for him to hand us the package directly.

The color ended up being wrong, but at least the size and the model were right this time; I was just glad to have something that would provide a little more protection from the elements tomorrow. While Vivobarefoot's customer service leaves something to be desired, they make a good shoe and the package did arrive as promised, albeit without a second to spare.

a blustery morning run

I know that it takes about two weeks for the benefits of any given workout to have a physiological impact, but that doesn't mean a run can't have an immediate psychological effect. With the temperature just below freezing and the wind blowing fiercely this morning, I opted against an easy run and traded it for a confidence boosting long run. With only four days until my 5 mile turkey trot I knew I should be tapering, but with the forecast calling for temperatures in the low twenties Thanksgiving morning, I wanted to make sure that I could handle both the distance and the cold.

I drove out to Hickory Hollow, a small natural preserve area that has a few different trails that loop around and intersect each other, and I set out for a four mile run, my longest run in almost a year. The ground was hard and unyielding from the cold and the wind had left many tree limbs strewn across the trails. It was pretty tough going, and at one point, due to concealment caused by fallen leaves, I lost sight of the trail and ended up running down a steep embankment, only able to arrest my rapid, uncontrolled decent at the bottom by grabbing onto a small tree. Despite the unforeseen adventure, I continued on my way, all the while hoping that it would warm up, but the cold winds were unrelenting. Far from my fastest run, I was just content to have completed the run without any other incident.

I know the cautious thing to do would have been to take it easy today and to ensure that my legs were as fresh as they could be for the race on Thursday, but I'm glad I put in the extra miles. Between IT twinges from a couple of weeks ago to my longest run being only 3.5 miles, I was a little worried about how things were going to go at the turkey trot. Would I have to walk? Would I end up injured? But after today's run, I know that I'm good to go. I don't have a lot of confidence in breaking my time from last year, but at least I know that I'm ready.

a way to procure free accommodations

When Vacation Village Resorts called me a few days ago, I was told that all I had to do was sit through a relatively brief timeshare presentation and my wife and I would be awarded three separate stays at any of their facilities around the country, regardless of whether or not we ended up purchasing anything. Obviously my curiosity was peaked, so after putting in some quick research to determine this wasn't a scam, I signed us up and scheduled a time to visit their Virginia location, the Williamsburg Plantation Resort. Having a relatively strong mental fortitude is a trait common to many runners, so I figured it would be easy enough to listen to the presentation, politely decline, and then collect our rewards.

We woke up bright and early this morning to make the two hour drive to Williamsburg, and arrived shortly before our scheduled appointment. Coffee and doughnuts were provided as people began to steadily trickle into the lobby. Within minutes of being there, our names were called from the front desk and we were introduced to our sales associate. He informed us that the resort was off-site and that this location simply served as a reception center, so we got into his car and set off for a drive. Because my wife and I had arrived early, he toured us around the area, all the while talking about what an incredible place Williamsburg was and how it had no off-season since there was always something to do. Towards the end of his little tour, he stopped the car on the side of the road, looked right at me, and said, "I was like you once, an individual who had never attended one of these kinds of things before. I just need you to keep an open mind. I can't make you buy anything today and you're under no obligation, but I kept an open mind back when I did this and now I own three timeshare properties." He concluded his speech with a longer than necessary pause, and then put the car in gear to take us to the resort.

He gave us a quick tour of the facilities, showing off both the indoor and the outdoor pool, the game room, and their vast collection of DVD's. He then took us to a schedule board to highlight all of the programs and activities offered that week, all of which included with being a member. After he finished showing us around, he brought us to a large room with many small tables; a couple and their sales associate were seated at nearly every table, but we found an empty one and took our seats. He proceeded to talk for an inordinate amount of time, covering the timeshare exchange program and asking us about our previous travel history. With that done, he told us he had just one more thing to show us, the timeshare unit itself, and then we could come back to start talking about a price.

The unit was definitely nice and spacious; it had two bedrooms and two bathrooms, a kitchen stocked with everything necessary to prepare and serve a meal, and a large living room with a fireplace, TV, and pull-out sofa. Our sales associate talked to us about the dirtiness of hotels and how bringing friends along to your timeshare often meant that they would pay for your meals or contribute in some other way. As another sales associate and her touring couple started to make their way into the unit, we made our exit and went back to the room filled with tables.

Once we sat down, the games really began. Our sales associate presented us with a total price, as well as the cost of the down payment and our monthly payments. We of course politely declined, and then he began to sweeten the deal. He offered us discounts on the property and the down payment, and told us that if we purchased today we could have premier membership as opposed to standard. When we again said no, our sales associate called over an inventory specialist to bring the price down even further, dropping it to nearly half that of the original offer. After declining many more times, the inventory specialist left the table and our sales associate became fairly angry; he told us that we would never get to go on a honeymoon and that we came in today completely closed, not even a little bit open. His indignation was quickly abated though, and he was nothing but pleasant on the ride back to the reception center.

Our sales associate walked us through the lobby and into a room in the back, where he passed us off to someone new; this individual was cute and personable, and it became clear that her job was to make sure a sale was made. She started off by asking how our first sales associate did and what previous offers had already been made. Then she completely switch gears, and began making new offers; these were extremely low and affordable, but we stuck to our guns and declined. When she was finally convinced that we weren't going to be buying a timeshare, she checkout us out and awarded us our three vacation vouchers.

In full disclosure for anyone considering doing this, the company did require a $75 deposit to help ensure your attendance at the presentation, but this was returned, and then some, on a Visa gift card. As for the presentation itself, the fine print says that it will take "approximately 90 minutes," but it took us almost exactly 3 hours. And finally, the vouchers don't actually entitle you to stay at their resorts, but rather their affiliated hotels nearby their resorts. So if none of this scares you off, my wife and I found it to be a pretty cool way of acquiring some free accommodations.

Review: Ultramarathon Man

"Ultramarathon Man: Confessions of an All-Night Runner"

Dean Karnazes

Due to his miraculous resistance to muscle degradation and the ability to recover while on the move, Dean Karnazes is theoretically capable of running forever if he is supplied with adequate food and fluid. This makes Karnazes a real life superhuman, and "Ultramarathon Man" serves as his origin story, describing his transformation form mortal runner to running machine.

As Karnazes has risen to the top of his game, becoming the poster child for extreme endurance, he has become an intensely polarizing figure; he's one of those guys who you either love or you hate. "Ultramarathon Man" perfectly exemplifies this fact, and whether you enjoy reading it or not is entirely dependent on your mindset going in. If you want to hate on it you can certainly find your reasons, most people in this camp arguing that Karnazes is overbearingly egotistical, but if you approach it looking to read a case study on what the human body can actually be capable of, you won't be at all disappointed.

Following some expository information on how he began running and excluding a few minor chapters that help summarize the passage of time, "Ultramarathon Man" provides detailed accounts of Karnazes's participation in four major races: The Western States 100, The Badwater Ultramarathon, The First South Pole Marathon, and The Relay. While readers with a keen eye for detail may notice that Karnazes's South Pole run actually took place two years prior to his solo completion of The Relay, the switch in chronological order is a smart editorial decision, as it means the reader gets to experience greater spectacle with each new challenge, each feat of endurance being grander than the one that precedes it.

The most compelling aspect of "Ultramarathon Man" is getting to follow along with Karnazes's evolution as a runner. As he starts out, everything is a learning experience, from initially discovering the existence of ultrarunning to the importance of running the white line along the shoulder in Badwater so that the soles of his shoes do not melt. With each race he gains new knowledge and insights, and by the time he is running The Relay as a solo participant, a 199 mile relay event generally completed in teams consisting of 12 members, he has more than a handful of tips and mental tricks up his sleeve.

Like Karnazes himself, "Ultramarathon Man" never slows down; it starts strong, and it finishes stronger. While Karnazes's achievements are far beyond the capabilities of most, readers will definitely be able to relate to the idea of steady persistence and determination paying off, as well as to the highs and lows one can experience when truly pushing oneself to their limit.

Review: My Life on the Run

"My Life on the Run: The Wit, Wisdom, and Insights of a Road Racing Icon"

Bart Yasso

While published back in 2009, it seemed fitting to have my first review be of a book I found deeply inspiring and written by an individual who, despite not having met, I really admire. For those unfamiliar, Bart Yasso is often regarded as the "Mayor of Running," an individual who has worked at Runner's World magazine for nearly 30 years. Since taking up running, he has participated in a wide variety of races all across the globe, and he has worked tirelessly to spread the joys of running to others.

"My Life on the Run" is divided into two sections, the first of which provides an autobiographical account of Yasso's running career by highlighting his experiences with the sport, each chapter chronicling a unique running exploit. While his adventures have taken him to all sorts of exotic locations around the world and reading about them is enough to make anyone envious, Yasso never comes across as pretentious in his delivery; in fact, he comes across as quite the opposite. 

Yasso presents each anecdote candidly, as if sharing his stories with close friends, never over embellishing or attempting to brag. While reading the rundown of each account you get the sense that he is just a regular guy, rather than the legend he really is. Whether describing the majesty of running in the arctic, the awkwardness of delivering a keynote address in the nude, or the struggles of completing the Badwater Ultramarathon, Yasso's tone remains casual and sincere as each tale unfolds. It is clear in his writing that he is extremely grateful for the opportunities that running has provided him with, and his message of running as a form of rejuvenation is made all the more powerful as he weaves his struggles with addiction and Lyme disease into his stories.

Despite the incredibly strong start though, "My Life on the Run" begins to rapidly lose momentum towards the end of the first section. It is almost as if Yasso runs out of stories to share with his readers, and instead, shifts his focus to exploring a random assortment of topics to avoid publishing a book too short to fill its binding. The sincerity of the earlier chapters is still there as he describes notable runners who have inspired him and his indoctrination into the Running USA Hall of Champions, but even that fizzles out as he concludes the section with a report of "famous" costumed runners.

The second section of the book shifts drastically from the material covered in the first, and it serves as more of a reference guide than a narrative. In this section, Yasso provides training plans and descriptions of his favorite races. While most of the training information can easily be found online, a lot of stock can be put into Yasso's race recommendations given the fact that he has completed over 1,000 races. The suggested races are definitely interesting, and the list could easily be used by someone attempting to compile a running themed bucket list.

While "My Life on the Run" peters out towards the end, the stories alone make the book well worth purchasing. Each of Yasso's adventures are charismatic and earnest in their delivery, and their episodic nature make this book perfect for quick inspiration or for light pick up and put down reading.

a chilly three mile triumph

My best friend and I have been running the same 5 mile turkey trot every Thanksgiving morning since 2008, and each year my time has gotten just a little bit slower than the previous year. This somewhat depressing trend can easily be attributed to persistent issues with iliotibial band syndrome caused only by my own past foolishness, but despite the ever increasing times being posted on the finishing clock, I've gotten a little bit smarter about my training as the years have passed.

I've worked hard to incorporate different techniques and routines to help keep injury at bay, and since making a smooth transition into minimalist running this past summer I was really starting to feel confident about breaking my predictable Thanksgiving day slowdown. I mapped out an eight week plan to steadily increase the length of my runs, and things were going extremely well up until last week when the scheduling began calling for distances of 3 miles and beyond.

On each run where I attempted to reach the elusive distance, I started to feel twinges in my IT bands, some days the left and on others the right. Not wanting to risk all of the gains I had made since the summer, I'd inevitably back off and end the run early, usually about a half mile short of an even three. But today, on the coldest day since I began running in just a flimsy piece of rubber held to my foot by a cord, I succeeded in competing a 3 mile run, and I hadn't even set out to do it.

In preparation of the cold I ended up deviating from my usual routine in several ways, and it's hard to tell which aspect or what combination of factors lead to my momentous run this morning; all I know is that something clicked and it worked. I did a quick foam rolling session before leaving the house, and I walked for about five minutes prior to starting. Then, when I finally got to running, I ran extremely slowly, nearly 90 seconds slower than my usual pace. The run was feeling easy, and all I kept telling myself was that I shouldn't look at my watch, that I should just stop when it started to get difficult. Eventually I started thinking that I had been running for what felt like awhile, and when I looked at my watch I saw "2.88 miles" on the screen. A celebration was clearly in order; obviously at that point I had no problem finishing out the 3 miles for the day.

So as of right now it's tough to say if I'll end up breaking my streak and clocking a faster time than I had at last year's race, but I'm content just knowing that it seems I've broken a plateau in my training. We'll just have to see how the next two weeks go, and maybe things will come together on Thanksgiving morning as perfectly as they had today.

a review of my running history

I began running almost six years ago during my sophomore year of college to combat some of the characteristic weight gain that had occurred during my freshman year. I started out fairly slowly, never having been particularly active in organized sports, but gains came quickly and I soon became a bit too enthusiastic and overzealous in my running pursuits. By the end of my sophomore year, I was running distances far beyond my actual capabilities and I had just one goal on my mind: running a marathon.

With my sights set on the legendary distance I dove into a vicious cycle of training to the point of injury and then failing to achieve my goal. For the next two years I would aim for a marathon in the relatively distant future, and then one of two things would happen: I would either injure myself almost immediately and end up not signing up for the race at all, or I would injure myself in the later stages of training and resolve myself to dropping down to the accompanying half marathon.

It wasn't until my senior year of college that I finally succeeded in completing a marathon, but doing so came at great cost to my ability to run afterwards. I knew that I needed to raise the stakes to ensure actually making it to the starting line this time around, so my best friend and I signed up for the Walt Disney World Marathon in 2010, hoping that the financial investment of the trip would serve as a motivating force to get me through a complete training cycle. The plan had one major flaw though, and that was the fact that while I was definitely motivated, and in fact somewhat obligated after having arranged travel and accommodations, I wasn't any more likely to actually complete my training without injury than if I had just chosen another local race. As had become the expected pattern, I quickly found myself injured and unable to run more than a handful of miles between weeks of inactivity. Within the two months leading up to the marathon I literally hadn't run anything over eight miles, and if I call correctly, I had only managed that feat once.

As I chatted with those around me awaiting the start, the full weight of how grossly underprepared I was began to hit me. There I was, not having even broken double digits on a single run in the past couple of months, listening to people describe their anxieties over whether or not their twenty mile training runs would be enough to carry them through the race; needless to say it did nothing to bolster my confidence. Moreover, as if that hadn't been enough, Florida was experiencing record low temperatures all across the state, and I, thinking I was going to be taking a break from the frigid temperatures of January in New York, hadn't packed anything but shorts to run the race in. You know things aren't going well when you see volunteers pouring Gatorade powder on the ground at the aid stations to keep the spilled water from freezing.

Nevertheless, despite all of the odds stacked up against me, I managed to run the first 18 miles, and then somehow completed the rest of the course by alternating between some combination of running, walking, and limping to the end. The whole ordeal left me completely hobbled and nearly broken, but wanting to get the most out of my stay in Disney World, I popped Tylenol for the next week to mask the pain as I limped around the parks. When all was said and done, iliotibial band syndrome, otherwise known as ITBS, had become a permanent fixture in my life that plagued me consistently for the next few years.

At it's worst, I could barely run more than a half mile without being forced to come to a stop and then having to take a week or more off until I was able to try again. Surprisingly though, I still had a strong desire to run, so I began systematically trying everything that even had a chance of alleviating my ailment. Stretching, hip strengthening, and foam rolling all became staples of my routine, but nothing seemed to completely absolve the problem. It got to the point where there was just one thing left to try, and despite my reservations and my complete lack of faith in its purported healing powers, I took the leap into the world of barefoot and minimalist running this past summer.

Not wanting to risk making things worse than they already were, I followed all of the usual advice that gets tossed around when making the transition to ditching the shoes: I started out slowly in terms of both speed and distance, I worked on increasing my stride cadence, and I began concentrating more on my form and foot falls. I was extremely skeptical when I first started out, but I have to admit, things seemed to start falling into place as soon as I kicked off the shoes. Now I can comfortably run a couple of miles at a time, and while I still get twinges in my IT bands every now and again, it's certainly not the debilitating, sidelining injury it once was; for the time being I can be happy with that.