It’s been six months since the (albeit explicable) disaster that was Paine-to-Pain. I didn’t want that to be my final race, but with age that thought must always be in the back of the mind. As noted earlier, I decided to run the Scarsdale 15K. I’m pretty happy with my training except for missing too many mid-week runs. More than that, I needed to pin a number on and go. 15K struck me as a good distance since I could feel my way into it.

It was chilly when I woke up but i knew it was not a long-sleeve day. The only decision was whether to go singlet or t-shirt. I hadn’t worn a Warren Street shirt in a race in a long while. I was looking forward to at least wear it with some respectability. I chose the t-shirt — it’s red and black — and compression shorts. It was sunny thus lots of sunscreen, my cap, and sunglasses.

It was, though, quite chilly as I checked in. Race time of 9:30. A bit of  jog. When I was ready for the race I knew I’d be fine in what I wore. And saw that lots of folks would overheat.

The course was far tougher than I recalled. I remembered the two big if short hills. But time had deadened the memory of the rolling nature of the roads. Ups and downs. Ups and downs.

Time: 1:03:57. Splits: 6:31, 6:53, 6:48, 6:49, 6:52, 7:02*, 7:02*, 6:48*, 6:41. (* includes stoppage-time).My plan was to go out relaxed and, as I say, roll into it. My first glance at the Garmin, though, had me at under 6:10. Very bad. I went through mile 1 in about 6:30. Too fast. Mile 2 was a major struggle and thoughts of stopping raced through my brain. But I kept at it. By this point everyone who would be ahead of me was ahead of me and everyone who would finished behind me was behind me. I only had a bit of a back-and-forth with one guy who had uphill issues and who I believe DNFed.

One strange thing at the start. It’s a little local race (there’s a 4-miler that is essentially the first loop of the 15K with a 9:15 start. I stood at the front and after the horn a young guy came from the left and just cut me off. Like 5 steps into the race. I was able to push his back. As seems inevitable when I’m cut off, it was a CPTCer. What are they teaching those people?

I got that off my chest. Ah, back to the race. There’s a very steep but, as I say, short hill near 2 shortly followed by a steeper downhill (which is the second tough uphill between 6 and 7). Once I got through that stretch, I started to feel better. I wasn’t straining in my breathing. It was that my legs were heavy. I fell into a rhythm and was able to run consistently for the next few miles. I realized that a toe was bleeding. I sometimes discover a nail has cut a neighboring toe after a run. Now, perhaps for the first time, I realized that it was happening, felt mostly because my right sock was sticking to my toe. It turned out not to be a problem but it was annoying.

I was tiring, but I wanted to get at least to 10K before stopping. Alas, in precisely the spot where I first stopped when I last ran this race, when I crested a hill and saw that there a another one about to come, I stopped. Only for a few seconds. and then I was good. The guy I mentioned shouted encouragement and I felt far better as i went. that was the last I heard of him. I was alone for the duration. I crested the short monster hill, and stopped as I did. Another 10 seconds and I again felt far better. I was struggling, but I was trying to keep the pace right, avoiding the wrong side of that wall. I took encouragement from the slight downhills which seemed to follow on the ups. One more stop with 1.5 to go, and then I was committed. But it was tough. I was tired.

The race finishes with about 300 meters on the Scarsdale HS track. It was a very long 300 meters. Very long. I measured it out as I crossed each lane marking. Somehow I made it and was overjoyed. The time is not great — it clocks a 77.72 AG — but that doesn’t matter. (As to distance, my Garmin clocked it at just over 9.4)

As I say, a good building block/reality check event. I need to get a bit of speed work in such as the tempo I did a few weeks back. I was a little bloodied in the endeavor, but am not unbowed.

It was a fine Sunday run.

Things did not look good early Friday evening. Running on the B’ville track I felt a sharp pain in my left ankle. I immediately stopped and walked home. But I feared that the Sunday Rockies Run — it’s the last Sunday of the month — would be undoable. So no run on Saturday.

I decided not to test it before driving up, figuring that would tempt fate. I also thought that if it turned out to be a problem, I could still go to breakfast.

This despite the forecast of rain, rain, and more rain.

But the rain had stopped by the time I had gotten up. But the radar was ominous as it showed a new  bit of rain scurrying across Philly and headed our way. It looked like even if we could start in the dry we’d end in the wet.

I arrived and we had a group of 5, with Paul, Bobby, Chris (from the Greenwich RC), and Mike (from the B’ville RC). Off we went. I struggled from the get-go although it wasn’t that fast. First mile was very tough for me. After that, though, I relaxed. No signs of ankle pain. There were muddy spots, but not like the mud on, say, Twin Lakes where there are pools of the stuff through which you have to run. No, just some narrowing of the running surface. Paul, Bobby, and I fell into a nice rhythm behind Chris and Mike. Paul has done 19 yesterday so having sown his wild oats he was restrained. Bobby was his typical loping self.

In the end we hit only one major hill — 13-Bridges (going clockwise) — and while it was a bit of a struggle up I was aided by the knowledge of the nice, gradual descent on the way down. There are a couple of other hills on the course, which took us up around Swan Lake via the Red Farm, where we saw two calves, but not the lung-wrenching sort. And it stayed dry for the duration, and has remained so. Shorts and a long-sleeve NYCRuns shirt was perfect. I learned my lesson from last Saturday, when I overheated in tights with a temp in the 40s. F.

We finished easily, just over 10 at 1:15 or so. That’s the longest timewise I’ve run in a while. It was worth it as we meandered down to the Horseman’s Diner, where we were joined by Sham, who had done her own 10-miler with a friend.

And so it was, a fine, fine adventure. Over three months since running at the Rockies. It was a long winter.


Here’s how I put in on Facebook:

So, an Italian, two Frenchmen, two Brits, and two Americans run in the Park. They were all chatting amiably except for one of the Americans who was tired and unable to speak a coherent statement without having to pause after every third syllable. The others feared for him, as he was old and might fall easy prey to someone from a lesser club, and came back to collect him.

Alas. It was but temporary and after the passage of but one more mile he fell permanently off the back, never to be seen again.

Our ancient American, though, was not so easily daunted. He was determined to do a complete loop of the Reservoir on the bridle path before heading out of the Park at 110th, and so it was that alone and fearful he soldiered on, covering the final four miles in 27:52 and feeling stronger and stronger and younger and younger with each stride until he crossed 120th Street and his Garmin crossed 10.00. He could not have done so well without his smörgåsbord of mates.

(Paul Thompson identifies them all; in addition to him and me, we had master-pacer Sebastien Baret, Fabio Casadio, Pascal Lauffer (with whom I’ve had my share of Facebook battles but who I was quite happy to see, with him coming off a 2:51 last week-end), Charlie Baily, and Sam Lynch (the other Yank, who I had not met earlier but who was too fast for me to speak to much).)

I’ve noted before the strangeness of finding it more difficult to run with people than to run alone in that going at about the same pace alone seems easier. But as I’ve also noted I wanted to take advantage of the Warren Street run to get some quality work in. And I did. We run on the bridle path, except for getting to and from the Park. This eliminates the hills.

As an aside, last year I ran a number of times with VCTC with the objective of keeping things under-control and I was pleased with the way things went. But in the end I didn’t think it had quite my type of running DNA. I was miffed at WSSAC because I hadn’t been deemed  worthy of sponsor-shoes. And I may not have been given my limited-to-non-existent racing in the last few years. Another issue, though, was the betwixt-and-between one in which, as evidenced by yesterday, I am no longer as fast as I was only a few years ago. Then I could stick with the group, albeit for distances less than Paul and others did. And I would feel the runs. But Warren Street — which is really just the people — is more to my liking so I’m back.

I found out yesterday that I’m not strong enough now to do it either because I’m not yet in decent shape or because I’ll never be able to. It’s a sobering thought. Yet one deserving thought.

It’s not that yesterday was a disaster. To the contrary, I’m incredibly pumped by it. My splits were pretty even except for the one that killed me: 7:05 (not much of a warm-up there), 7:03, 7:07, 6:46 (that’s what did it, heading down the westside), 7:04, 7:15 (heading back up the westside so I’m thinking that was hillier than I thought), 7:00 (this is where I fell off and headed my own way but decided that while I was dead I had to do a loop of the Reservoir or that all would be for naught), 7:02, 7:01, 6:49 (this is heading down the hill by the Lasker Rink and out onto Lenox Avenue and then Fifth to Marcus Garvey Park, where I had parked).

Two weeks ago in the Park I did a solo (entirely on the roads) 8.5 miles at 1:00:06, a 7:04 pace. Last Saturday it was 1:10:51 up the BRP, for 9.57 miles (7:24). I had hopes to increase that to 1:20 yesterday, but it was a tad too quick early for that. At times, I thought I’d have to stop. But I held on by my fingernails and once I took the decision to do that loop of the Reservoir, legs screaming (I was overdressed in tights and a long-sleeve shirt, hat, sunglasses, and gloves), I took advantage of the slight downhill on the bridle path heading south above 90th Street to recover and from that point on I felt stronger and stronger so that when I hit the road again I was sold.


Not having done any speedwork in a while, I headed to the Bronxville track this morning. A 1.25 jog down. A little chilly, but compression shorts and long-sleeve were the order of the day. (I wore my WSSAC outers there and back.) Not sure what pace to aim for. Was thinking 6:30ish. But just let it flow. Lap 1 was typically fast but then fell into a consistent 97-99 pace so that I got in a solid 20:25 for 5000 (6:35 pace). Importantly (and the same is true of yesterday) although there were times when I felt the strain, I was able to push through, hold it together, and recover. This has long been an issue for me, especially at races, where I’ve too frequently taken breaks. I think breaks can be useful, but they can also become a bad habit.

I have the Scarsdale 15K in two weeks and the last time I ran it I stopped a number of times. I need to avoid that. These workouts are a good sign.

This is a lazy post. Video.

Note the contrast with the picture at the top of the page. A change of seasons. You see the vehicles at the start of the video. Because there was a horse show going on, the lots were full so some people parked there.

For the record, today was the first time on this trail (or any trail) for months. Yesterday I got in 1:10 along the Bronx River Parkway path, which has been off-limits for a while, again with the snow. It looks like we’ve turned the corner. And I did see my first robin yesterday morning.

Hoping for a run in a closed space, unimpeded by traffic and snow, I decided to head south. I don’t think I ran in Central Park once in 2013, but the same can’t be said for 2014.

It’s about a 20-minute drive. I tried to be creative in parking, but that didn’t work out so I parked on the east side of Marcus Garvey Park. It’s a straight-shot 1/2 mile down 5th Avenue (the Marathon course) to the Park. Headed in and a counterclockwise loop.

Since I’d last been in the Park, there have been some adjustments. In particular, the recreational lane has been widened in most spots and marked for runners only, with cycling markings to the right. This means far fewer runners venturing into the bike lane, although I did have two guys pass me on the downhill curve at the north end who thought it ok to meander in the middle of the bike lane; they ignored my “aren’t you supposed to be on this side?” query. In all my years of running in the Park, I’ve never run like that.

Which reminds me that I did miss being able to yell at people. The runners themselves were fine. It was the runners-with-big-dogs-and-long-leashes who were the problem. Many of them. Oblivious. Rude or Stupid? You decide. Plus the group of runners simply standing at 90th Street and Fifth blocking half the Rec Lane.

I mentioned a bit ago that one of my objectives is to be able to join Warren Street again for its Saturday morning jaunt (as well as actually racing with them). I’m not there yet so I decided not to try to hook up with Paul Thompson — who dropped me a note that he finished third (not second) in 45-49 at USATF’s Cross Champs — and do it alone. I find it easier to run alone by which I mean it seems harder to run at a particular pace when I’m with a group than when I’m alone.

Still, I did come upon Paul and some other WSSACers who were waiting to pick up folks fo their group and said hello. I hope to be in the group eventually.

The run itself was a mixed bag. I didn’t want to go hard, but the enthusiasm of being in the Park had me doing a 7:01 and a 7:02 for miles 3 and 4 along the west side, which left me pretty dead as I hit the bottom of the Park and fearful that I might blow up. But a slight ratcheting back as I turned north allowed for recovery and after getting up Cat Hill (with a wave) I took advantage of the slight downhill that takes one all the way to the top of the Park to relax and felt like a new runner for the last few miles.

This was the best sign. The last mile-and-a-half was on the streets and while tired — I hadn’t gone over 50 minutes for a long while — I felt solid and had the fastest splits of the run. It was the fastest pace overall in a long while and I got to 8.5 miles in 1:00:06.

I’m a bit tired now. The prospect of Scarsdale, though, has proved a great incentive. I managed three 30-minute sessions on the treadmill this week. It’s as though a switch has been flipped and enthusiasm that I feared had gone is seeping back in. This is a strange business.

While here in New York the snow was unavoidable, people were able to go through February, albeit a short month, without a post here.

I had a nice run this morning, Saturday. Temp in the mid 20s (F) and sunny. Cold enough to keep a wool cap on, tights, long-sleeve. Sunblock and sunglasses. I’ve taken in this cold weather to seeking out quiet areas. I’ve done a couple of runs with a half-mile (or so) loop run 7 times (plus running there and back) and last Saturday was uber-dangerous as there was black ice all over the place and after a near disaster, I meekly headed home. Today saw a couple of loops of a longer stretch, just a block off the busy north-south road that cuts through Bronxville.

Relaxed pace, yelling at myself to keep the eye on the bigger picture, avoiding hammering that has me gasping at the end and struggling to finish. It’s amazing how slowing just a tiny bit can make such a difference, Micawber-like.

My objective is the Scarsdale 15K, on April 6. I’ve run it a few times, although not for a while, and won it once. No expectations. Just putting on a number on a race that’s neither too long where I struggle to finish nor too short where I struggle with too fast a pace. Maybe get some redemption after my last race. I wrote about it, wow, five years ago.

In other news, the great Paul Thompson finished second in the 45-49 AG in the USATF National Cross Champs, held in Boulder. He inspires, even an old-timer such as me.

I haven’t written about Mary Cain for a while; she’s been speaking pretty well for herself. A while back I noted the constant pressure she is under and that she doesn’t run a bad race, and that’s still the case, with a USA indoor 1500 championship last weekend. She seems to be enjoying herself, and everyone I know wishes her well.

Alas, her success inevitably has led a few to suspect she’s on some PEDs. It’s not unique to her. Indeed, it came up about another female runner (who as it happens also ran in the Worlds 1500 final last year) during a Rockies run a while back simply because of an everyone-does-it taint on all world-class runners. Unlike cycling in the post-Lemond through Armstrong era, though, I don’t think everyone one does it and I don’t think any Americans in that 1500 final do.

Specifically as to Cain, two words: No way.


Someone approached me the other day, objecting to one of my posts. I said I’d look into it, did, thought the post too smarmy, and took it down.

People should not have to rely on the fortuity of running into me to make their thoughts about what I write known. I want to set out some rules here, which I’ve tried to apply from day one.

  • I will post any comments people have. I will try to respond, as I have in the past. The exception: comments that are gratuitously cruel about someone else. And if someone views something I post in that light, I will respond, and if appropriate apologize and correct.
  • I will not publish anything sent to me via email without clearing it with the writer. I realize that the “email me” link may not work because it is coded for an old generation of email programs, but my email is joe.jpgarland AT If I get an email, I’ll try to respond.
  • If you disagree with me about something or think that I have my head up my ass, feel free to let me know. I may even agree with you (as I have in the past, see, e.g., posts on triathlons). I may not agree with you but I’ll try to explain why. The objective of this blog is to communicate, in a multi-party medium.
  • Anything I say that is not attributed to anyone else is what I have to say. The idea of a blog is to say what you think — if you’re worried about what others think there’s no point in doing it — but also to defend what you think or, if it’s the right thing, to acknowledge the fact. (Similarly, if my name is not on a post elsewhere (or, sometimes, “RunWestchester”, I did not post it (with one exception several years ago that will not be repeated). If I’m not willing to put my name on something, it’s not worth putting it out there.)

It’s been a month since I last posted and, well, I’ve nothing to say. Same old, same old. With a couple of hiccups, I’ve managed to string together some good runs, on the roads, on the treadmill, on the track. My goal is to be ready for the Scarsdale 15K come April.  And I do hope to be in good enough shape to re-join the Warren Street boys for their Saturday morning runs. For me it’s a serious effort and I can’t hang with the group the entire distance. But it’s something to look forward to.

By contrast, when I was running with VCTC, the objective was to slow things down, and that worked, but in part because of the physical limits of where they run, I’ve been simply trying to keep it slow on my own, by finding a Goldilocks pace. Of course that’s more easily done on the treadmill.

I have been throwing inclines into treadmill work, say going up to and down from 6.0 in 0.5 increments with 1 minute each or to 8.0 with 30 seconds each. Brutal but it helps the time pass. On one of these ventures, I listened to a good podcast from Bob Babbit on Competitor Group with Bob Kennedy, an American icon in the 90s.

I was itching to just run “fast”. So to the Bronxville track I jogged this morning. A mix of folks on it, walking, running. (Because lane 4 is the closest to 400m, that’s where I was; I asked a couple of people to keep it clear and they gladly complied.) It always seems romantic. Going hard and fast. So I was to do six 800s, pace to be based on feel. Cruel shock on No. 1. These things hurt. So I down-graded to doing 4. Each a struggle but each under control and just under 3:00. I don’t know if that’s good or bad given that it wasn’t too long ago that I could do 20-minute Tempos faster than that. It was good, though, to go hard, to use the lane-markings to keep me going — only 500 to go, etc. It was a fun, almost spontaneous workout. Not yet serious, but I’ll have to become so if I want to be ready for Scarsdale.

With some early snow here in Westchester, my running, such as it is, is treadmill-centric these days. I’m looking long-term, so I’m not thinking of doing it every day. When I go to Brooklyn, it’s early or not-at-all, and I’ve been more of the latter than I should. That said, I am building confidence that I’m heading in the right direction for the late Winter/Spring.

I had toyed with joining VCTC but my fall during a Saturday run put the kibosh on being active with the group and in the end I decided that I’m more in sync with my old teammates on Warren Street, so it looks like I’ll be heading back there, if they’ll take me. Warren Street has a more-serious streak, notwithstanding its rebel-image and club motto — “they said sit down, I stood up” — and I think it’s a better fit for me. So as I get in better shape I hope to try getting in some Saturday morning runs with the group. It was a few years ago that I last did it, and some of those runs were really pushing it for me but I like the prospect of driving down to the City — it only takes about 15 minutes — and joining Paul off the train for a Central Park workout. Whether I’ll enter NYRR races again is up in the air, although the reality is that I’m not going to be much of a scorer.

Perhaps the worst part of winter is the snow. Fortunately there are areas near me where the streets are plowed early and the traffic is light — one of the objectives behind he NY Running Routes site was to identify such places (as an aside, BRC has put up some running routes, but they fail the first law of such routes, i.e., aiming for quiet, low-traffic streets (as a further aside, I don’t go there anymore after having been badly treated on my last two visits)) — which I’ll frequent. The problem is that my beloved trails, and especially my monthly (or more) trek to the Rockies, are off-limits unless we have an extended warming stretch because of not the snow but the ice. So it may be March before we get back up there.


I’ve been spending a fair amount of time working on music. I’ve been playing the electric bass for about a year-and-a-half and have played the guitar since college. In the last six months, I’ve also tried writing, and I’ve posted a few things. Alas, unlike running, it’s hard to know whether one is decent or whether one sucks. In that vein, I invite people to hear some of my things. With the caveat that I CAN’T SING (as close family members who’ve heard some of this stuff have “observed”), you should be warned.

But what I do (generally) is record an acoustic guitar and singing. I have a bit of a problem I’m working on with rhythm, i.e., keeping the beat, so I’ve started to use a metronome. I’ve also learned that it’s hard to remember the words of a song I’ve written. I must write it down. Even then I miss things. So I put down, sometimes after several tries, a single guitar/voice track. Then I add the bass and one or more electric guitar things. I’ve found that even if the first acoustic track (I don’t use a pick) consists of plucking (as opposed to strumming), there’s no point in adding a strumming track. So it’s just electric fills.

There is a running one I did a while ago, but I’ve never put it down. Also, the levels can be all over the place. But it’s fun.

It was as we approached the red farm,, Bobby, Paul, and me. Suddenly to our right we heard a roar. They saw it go down. I only heard it.

It was a cold morning here in Westchester, with a wind chill of 9F in Mount Vernon. But it is the last Sunday of the month. So I got to Sleepy Hollow High School at the stroke of 9, or maybe a moment or too later, and Bobby and Paul were rushing for the shelter of Charlotte’s SUV. Wasting little time pre-run socializing, we headed out, Sham on her own (we’d see her on the trail) and Bobby in shorts since he hasn’t been home in so long that he had nothing long.

For Rockies-enthusiasts, the route we took is a great way to get 9.5 miles in. Nice and flat on the OCA for a couple of miles then a turn down into the Rockies proper, left along 13-Bridges ending in the switch-back climb (at the top of which is a tiny Buddha statute that one of the Rizzos pulled out — Charlotte was there with Meredith and Hilary) down and then a flat stretch before turning up to the Visitor’s Center (a steep hill that, thankfully, is steepest at its bottom), past the Visitor’s Center, up the hill to the northeast of Swan Lake, down to the Lake, past the red farm, under Sleepy Hollow Road, up one final hill, and the final great stretch to the parking lot. Three of the tougher hills at the Rockies, that one after Swan Lake was especially tough on my flatlander’s legs.

This was the first cold day. The sun, though, seemed to warm thing up and enhanced the beauty of the leafless vistas. It is what, or at least a big part of, what this running business is about. Followed by the Hungry Boy breakfast at the Horseman’s Diner down the street. Nothing like basic-diner fare after a run at the Rockies.


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