Ultimate Leisure Fleece Pants

Some of the nice features that put these pants in the winners circle  wide legs so you can slip them on and off without having to take off your shoes. Two nice deep front pockets and along with a zippered back pocket. This may seem trivial, but you would be surprised how often companies cannot properly put in pockets into pants without negatively affecting the fit and feel of the pants. Another silly feature that I liked but others may detest is the logo stitching on the bottom of the pants. Normally I do not like large embroidered logos, but with these I felt I was in the Kobra- Kai or some other bad ass karate dojo.

I am not sure if they have these pants at The Clymb anymore, it is worth checking out. If you need an invite for their sales here it is: http://www.theclymb.com/invite-from/JeffreyEckhaus

If you cannot find it there, it was worth searching for. I may actually do the same since I only bought one pair and think I may need to stockpile

I ran across this article in Runners World that gives a good rundown of how to come back after a break which I thought I would share. Here are some of the highlights:

START SLOW Runners returning to action often carry extra weight, which puts more stress on the body. To avoid injury caused by that stress, run no more than 20 consecutive minutes for several weeks.

JOIN A GROUP Athletes respond best when they return to a team setting.

RECOVER WELL Run every other day for the first few weeks. Rest days reduce the risk of injuries.

CROSS-TRAIN After a month, gradually change your recovery days from rest only to cross-training days. It will help build your aerobic development without increasing your injury risk.

If you would like to read the whole article you can read it here, it is worth the read http://www.runnersworld.com/article/0,7120,s6-238-516–13390-0,00.html

The Clymb is the latest site to jump on the private sale/sample sale bandwagon but their merchandise is different. They sell an amazing array of outdoor, bike and ski/snow brand with one company featured every week and a limited number of products for sale, which usually sells out by the second day. I have ordered two separate items from them and except for a delay in the shipment of one Dakine backpack , I have been very happy with the service and the products they have. The prices are great, maybe a little too good as I have to keep myself from buying something every week.

If you want to check out The Clymb, here is an invite code so you can check it out https://www.theclymb.com/invite-from/JeffreyEckhaus

There is no way most people can look cool wearing something reflective and I think I now have the proof of that with my new hat. The Brooks Nightlife Hat

This hat is comfortable, adjustable, reflective as hell, but kind of ugly. It has high visibility fabric that gives you 360 degrees of visibility and wait for it…….a flashing rear LED light on the back. Now since it is dark out when I am running I am going to go with function over fashion every night and wear this hat. While it will not a fashion award, it will probably save your life so I recommend this hat when running in the dark, which in Seattle at this time of year is 4:30pm – 7:30am. 

One more note – if you are looking for this hat or maybe some other reflective accessories check out this site night-gear.com. They have all sorts of reflective items for sale. 

Presents

“Ready, Set, Go!: A Marathon Prep Course”

hosted by The Department of Orthopaedic Surgery Faculty

Where: NYU Schwarz Hall, 550 1st Avenue (entrance between 32nd and 31st Street-Tisch Hospital Lobby)

When: October 29, 2009, 6 pm Registration , 6:30-9 pm Panel Discussions

What: Join Lewis G. Maharam MD, www.runningworld.com’s Running Doc and former Medical Director of the NYC Marathon, for an evening panel discussion with the faculty of HJD on optimizing your marathon performance, dealing with existing injuries, preventing new injuries and recovering quickly after the marathon.

How: Please email Ana De Jesus, at ana.dejesus@nyumc.org to pre-register or for more information. You may also register half an hour prior to the event. Raffle prizes available to individuals who register.

*******SPECIAL GUEST: Former Marathon World-Record Holder Steve Jones*******

Please post any recommendations in the comments and let me know what your favorites are. I would prefer to spend under $100 for a new rain jacket but if someone can convince me that a certain jacket is incredible I could go up to $101, maybe even more.

I am looking to make the purchase in the next week or two as the weather here in Seattle is starting to turn and need something new. Look forward to my review on the new running rain jacket once I have put some miles on it.

Now that I am finally back in a running groove I am going to try to fix my form, which sucks. I have had my cadence analyzed a few times and the report is always the same, not enough steps and I am over-striding. This causes performance issues (makes me slow) and can cause injuries.

Now for those who do not know what the issue is, when running your stride rate, the number of times your foot hits the floor should be about 180-190 steps per minute. An easy way to measure this, is time yourself on your next run for one minute and count how many times your left foot hits the ground. The ideal number is 85-95, I am barely hitting 80.

This is a problem of over-striding and I really want to fix it and am looking for help. If anybody has had success in correcting this issue please post your ideas in the comments. I am sure it is an answer many people would be interested in.

Let me first start by saying, how amazing all of the Dukes of Flatbush, particularly that guy I call my Husband, was through this whole process. A very sincere thanks to everyone for all of their well wishes, advice and encouragement along the way. And a particular shout out to the lady on First Ave and 96th St who was the ONLY person I didn’t know to call out my name- you will never know how much that helped. THANK-YOU!

I’ve taken a bit of time to write this for a lot of reasons. Partly because I needed to digest what exactly happened in those hours between 5 am and 6 pm on November 2nd, 2008, and partly because I really needed to get some rest! As I mentioned in my pre-marathon post, I was really looking forward to the two-week taper. My body, particularly my right knee and calf, were really giving me hell, and I was in an almost constant state of pain. I sought out the services of an acupuncturist, which helped tremendously, but even still I did not go into Marathon day in top form.

I’ll get this negative stuff out of the way, because as the administrator of this noble blog said- “It’ll be cathartic”. I’ll admit, I was pretty disappointed about not being in top shape on Marathon Day. After 2 + months of training, to be feeling rather questionable about your ability to perform is a bit of a lousy feeling. I didn’t play many team sports as a kid, so maybe this is something everyone else is used to by 32- I am not. I didn’t play through an ankle sprain and kick the winning goal. I didn’t get the MVP for getting two teeth knocked out and staying in the game to score four 3 pointers. I was a cheerleader- I broke my elbow doing a high kick and sat out the rest of the season out. Simply put, I’ve never played through the pain, it’s just not what I do.

OK, that feels better.

So there I was on the Saturday before Marathon Day, with perfect weather (crisp and partly cloudy with high of 50F) to look forward to, and I was a nervous friggin’ wreck about my knee. I went out for a long walk when a friend and fellow Marathoner called to ask how I was feeling. I described myself as the Owner of a Best in Show Contender at the Westminster Dog Show who had to leave Madison Square garden to go get a hotdog because they were too nervous to watch. This training process had done a lot of strange things to my mind, but this was getting out of hand. I was now simultaneously the Best in Breed, the trainer and the Owner. This had to stop!

What was the worst that could happen? “You could do real damage to your knee and wind up in serious trouble, Idiot,” I told myself. OK, fair enough, but really what are we talking about? Collapse in Williamsburg? Ambo in Central Park? I told myself that I could walk if I needed to, and in all honesty, that was fine. “There are plenty of people that walk, it’s not about the time. More importantly, it’s about finishing and raising funds for Jack’s Fund I reminded myself. Well, either the Viszla inside developed language skills or I was being to make sense. Either way, I was calm enough to go home and start the process of unwinding- 5 am does come early.

Per usual, I didn’t sleep much. It was a cold morning, but the spirit of the day most certainly got me out the door and onto the Subway Platform by 6 am. If your listening Mr or Mrs NYC Marathon Logistics Manager Man or Woman, I have to admit, I don’t think the Wave Start plan worked as well as you hoped. There were many, many runners that were in the 10:20 am start that had 5:30 am ferry or 4:30 am bus times. Doesn’t seem that it was the best use of staggered starts to then have people crowding the Staten Island Ferry terminal to stay warm before heading out into the sub 40 degree temp. But, I’m just saying. As I mentioned before, I consider myself a wimp. I know everyone talks about how amazing the Marathon Village is before the race, and how much fun it is to walk around and such, but I was freezing, so I stayed in the Ferry terminal till 8:30 before hoping on the bus to Fort Wadsworth.

Once there, I realized that there was a whole flurry of activity going on, and I clearly was not the only one that was a bag of nerves! People were literally walking in circles, too anxious and cold to sit, but too sore from months of training to move too fast! 9:30 am marked the end of Bag Check and in those few moments before I saw every type of salve, cream, gel you could imagine being applied to any and all body parts. Without shame, I too, joined the Vaseline’d Masses and got myself prepped for the race.

Before I knew it, we were lined up and stripping away our “give away” warm up gear. Without realizing it was really happening we were moving en masse up the platform up to the start line at the base of the bridge. Of course, Bruce Springstein’s Born To Run was playing on the speakers as I crossed over the start line. I chuckled to myself and smiled as I took off up the Verranzano Bridge and looked out over to Manhattan in the distance. I overheard someone say, “Doesn’t it look so far away?”. And strangely to me, it didn’t.

Coming into Brooklyn, I felt great. There was a dull pain in my knee, but it felt manageable. The tightness in my calf had subsided, I felt well rested, my digestive tract co-operated earlier and in all honesty, I felt like I was about to have the run of my life. Once on Fourth Avenue, I could see the Williamsburg Saving and Loan Building in the distance.

I live in Fort Greene, which is just past that at mile 8 so I settled in for an easy cruise up Fourth Ave, knowing that I would get a Dukes Welcome at the end of my block.

And there they were, my Bloody Mary’ed Cheering Section!

Luckily, my Husband brought out the Stick to the end of the road for a bit of mile 8 ITB release.

By this point, I was starting to question that “run of my life” comment. My knee was starting to feel very tight and tender, and each time I flexed my knee back after taking a step, it hurt even more. I slowed down from my 9 minute mile pace to a 9:30 for the next two miles to see where I was at. By mile 10 on Bedford Avenue, I stopped for a few moments to stretch out to see if I could loosen the ITB- it was beginning to feel like a rubber band being snagged on the outside of my knee with each step. No such luck. I stopped at the next Medical Tent to see if they had a Stick- for some reason this made sense to me, but of course they didn’t.

I was only 10 miles in, and here I was contemplating that I might have to serious consider walking for a bit. But walking on my right knee didn’t feel any better. The way I thought about it, it would just take longer and therefore hurt for longer. So I took off on my left leg, and just gently used my right foot to balance myself out. With that first step, I set my mind to running the remaining 16 miles on my left leg. Now I know this sounds insane, and of course it is. But it’s basically what happened. I stopped at two medical tents to have them tape up my knee to keep it from bending too far back, and I went about the business of getting through it.

Just passed seeing another group of friends at mile 14 in Long Island City, the pain was so bad that I stopped, folded over and started to cry. I don’t know if it was the pain, the frustration at my 11 minute pace or what, but I was pissed. All of this training, the resting, the icing, the balanced friggin’ nutrition, the Tetolling- I couldn’t believe it was coming to this. I think I even let out a bit of a Blue Streak- sorry to any kids that may have been nearby. After I few minutes, I got myself back together and got back to the business of the left sided shuffle. If it took me 7 hrs, I was gonna finish this thing.

I had been warned about the 59th St Bridge. With no crowds on either side, and the vibration of the runners pounding the expanse, it can be both daunting and exhilarating I was told.

As I made it up the incline, I got into a bit of a rhythm with the my new left sided gait and I was starting to settle in a bit. Just as I crested the bridge I realized that it truly “all down hill from here”. Not exactly the best thing for someone experiencing ITB pain, but you get the metaphor.

First Ave was pretty unbelievable.

Looking up those 50 or blocks and seeing a river of runners moving up the canyon of skyscrapers is a pretty remarkable site. There are so many spectators at this point too; never before have I felt greeted with such welcome arms to Manhattan. That said; I basically put my head down and wobbled my way up the Avenue, knowing that my Dukes Cheering Section was just 4 miles away.

By the time I got to mile 18, I realized that stopping to stretch was not a good idea; it became increasingly difficult to get started again and was more painful each time. It was also at that point that I realized that despite my difficulties, I was still within shot of my goal of sub 4:30. To do so, I would have to shave about 30 seconds off of my mile pace. One thing that has always been true during my training is that I tend to speed up after I get over the hump and enter the last 3rd of a run. Would that be true this time was the question.

I’ll spare you the grunting, wincing, cursing blow by blow of the last 8 miles, but they were the most intense of my life. The crowds down 5 Avenue and in Central Park were amazing. To each of the crazy spectators with the large “Beer” signs, thank-you for the laughs.

But I think this sign had to be the best-

With one last glance at my husband at the 26 mile mark, I ran those last .2 miles with tears in my eyes and a fullness in my heart that I will hold with me for the rest of my life.

At 4:28: 53, I can now say I know what it feels like to have made my own goal, banged up knee and all.

A week plus later, and I am not quite ready to tackle the pavement just yet. I might go back to Pilates for a bit, maybe even consider taking a Yoga class. I’m waiting for all of the swelling to go down to figure out what to do about my knee. I figure it makes sense to see what is just a result of all that training, and what may or may not be a lasting result before going to see a Doctor. To be honest I don’t want to know yet, I’d rather just bask in the glory for a bit longer.

For me the gold standard of running watches is the Garmin 405 , and was my baseline for comparison and testing for the Accelerator. The first impressions of the watch are that it is a nice fit and of course much smaller than the Garmin. It sits nicely on the wrist and the display is just OK. It could be a little sharper and is probably a level below a Timex Ironman and without the Indiglo feature, so a little tough to read at night, but adequate.

Now lets get to the fuctionality of the Accelerator. My main test of this watch was to see the accuracy of the distance measured against the Garmin 405. For most runners, any watch can tell time and do laps, but the distance measured is the key feature we are looking for. Let me begin by stating I did not really read the manual too well so not sure if I needed to calibrate the watch, but to tell you the truth it did not really matter.

My first run was an easy 4 miler, that wound around Volunteer Park in Seattle. The results were Garmin 4.01 miles, Accelerator 3.98 miles. Not too bad. The second event was a walk around Vancouver BC and the Accelerator and Google Maps both were within 5% of each other. Since I am never sure how accurate Google Maps are, I consider this a win in terms of accuracy. The third and fourth runs were 5 mile runs around Seattle and both times the results were the same. Garmin 5.02 miles, Accelerator 4.97 miles.

So in terms of accuracy, I can say that the Accelerator worked and for a runner that is looking for a general range of distance and is not obsessed like your truly, it is an excellent lower cost alternative to a Garmin. I think the Accelerator is around $70, so compared to $350 for the Garmin, so a pretty good value. The Accelerator has a bunch of other features such as steps, calories burned, dual time and a countdown timer, but I cannot account for how accurate the calories burned works and a timer is a timer and there was no chance I was counting steps.

I will keep the Tech4o in my watch rotation along with the Garmin 405 and a couple of Timex Ironmans

For my last 20 miler, I ran from the Brooklyn Promenade, across the Brooklyn Bridge, across Wall Street, up the West Side Highway, across Central Park South, and then over to the 59th street bridge. Next, up to Roosevelt Island for a loop, then back over the Pulaski Bridge into Brooklyn for the victory 5 miles back along Kent Ave and the Navy Yard. I thought I might be going insane around mile 18 when inner my monologue turned into a full on debate between three disparate voices- the one telling me to stop- Ms Whiney, the one telling me to get my act together- Ms Tough Gurl, and the one telling Ms Tough Gurl to “DIG DEEP” and “YELL LOUDER”- Ms GET IT DONE. When I end a long training run, I always ask myself if I have the remaining miles to 26.2 in me. As I rounded the corner at the end of that run, I asked myself if I had another 6 in me. Thankfully, Ms GET IT DONE answered, and the response went something like this. “HELLS YES!”

My 16 miler in Tampa, Florida last weekend, while not as entertaining, was quite a feat. Down in Tampa for a wedding, I had to make an early break from the post rehearsal dinner festivities to get some rest for the 8:30am 16 miler the day of the wedding! Who am I? My sister plotted the course for me along the Upper Tampa Bay Trail , which is really something many urbanites don’t see much. 8 miles of paved trail through lush forest, along a canal, with water stops every 1/2 mile- crazy! Even though it was over 85 degrees, that run felt like cake walk to the week before. A bit of soreness around mile 12, but I stretched it out and kept running, it was only 16 miles after all.

Now, I’m all about the recuperation. I’m looking forward to my afternoon dose of Ibuprofen, an easy four mile jog and perhaps an Epson Salt Bath tonight. With my last two big runs behind me and only a 6 on the horizon for this weekend, I’m feeling great.
Oh, yeah, and that 26.2 the week after, but, I got that one- “NO PROBLEM!”

Norther Duke (and key Reach The Beach squad member) Laura passenger pigeoned this report in about her maiden marathon effort this past weekend….RIGHTEOUS!

perfect (adj.): Supremely excellent in quality or nature.

Synonyms: absolute, consummate, faultless, flawless, impeccable, indefectible, unflawed

October in Maine is a tricky thing. Having wed in a record-breaking, torrential rain just under 3 years ago, I knew it was risky to sign up for the Maine Marathon as a first-timer. But as a 40+ year old New Englander, I also knew I could be in for a real treat, and that it was. Clear and cool at 7:45 AM, the weather on the Portland, ME coast was consummately, supremely excellent in nature for the duration of the race. It simply could not be improved upon in any way, and for that I am forever grateful. The course is lovely, winding around the urban inlet of Back Cove for 2 miles, then heading out through the tree-lined streets of the coastal towns of Falmouth and Yarmouth, with a couple of detours for scenic ocean vistas. It’s not too hilly, just enough to be interesting (and nothing like the monsters in Reach the Beach.) The energy of participants was great, the crowds were supportive, and a few spectators pegged me as a first-time marathoner (by my yellow race number) and gave me hearty shout-outs.

My only complaint about the day, aside from the abject misery of the last 4 miles, was the dearth of, ahem, “facilities” for, um, taking care of business, as it were. So, to the organizers of the Maine Marathon, I say: In the name of all that is good and pure in running, for f*ck’s sake, put more port-a-potties on the course!!! Please, just Google the phrase “runner’s diarrhea” and let the results be your guide! I was only two minutes off my target time, and you know why? Because after desperately seeking and running too fast for at least a mile and a half, I finally leapt over a ravine, scaled a stone wall, drew blood on my legs from brambles, found a spot where I was reasonably out of sight of 2,000 people running by on the road, and dug a cat hole so I could finally relieve myself of the pressing burden I had been bearing in my bowels since my last GU shot, then had to scavenge on the decaying forest floor for a reasonable medium for tidying up that wouldn’t leave me itching, chafing, or sprouting mushrooms 17 miles down the road. And once I got back on course, it was at least 3 more miles until the next port-a-pottie. What is *wrong* with you people?!?

There, I said it. I totally recommend this race otherwise, but do beware.

Aside from that one significant complaint, it was all good for the first 16 miles or so. Blue skies, autumn foliage, ocean breezes, great volunteers, adequate water stops. It was heaven. Yes, I started out way too fast, but who cares? I was feeling awesome! Early fall in Maine really can be heaven.

At some point, I slide into Purgatory. The pain creeps in and stays. “OK,” I think, “OK, so this is what the 2nd half feels like. That’s OK. I can take it.” Another mile. And another. That’s OK. I check my stopwatch/heart rate monitor, and although my HR is where it’s been all morning, my mile times are starting to slip. That’s OK. I have a cushion, as long as I don’t have to go on another bushwhacking adventure. I knew 4:05 was ambitious. 4:10 might still be in sight. Another mile. It’s really starting to hurt now. In places I don’t usually notice. In lots of places. In new ways. All at the same time. With every step. In between steps. I’m really tired. I’m really, really so tired, and it hurts so much. I try to find inspiration in my head somewhere. I think of my dad. I start to choke up and can’t breathe well. I change the subject. I pass some spectators, who cheer me on. I look at them and say, “Don’t ever do this.” They laugh.

Somewhere around mile 21, I realize I have been periodically shaking my head violently from side to side like a lunatic, telling myself no, No, NO! I’m not going to stop. I’m not going to walk. I can’t slow down. “Pain is temporary. Regret is forever.” I’m strong. I’ve trained for this. It’s a beautiful day on the coast of Maine, and I’m outside. Look around. Enjoy the scenery. I am going to make it. Another mile. 4:10 is not happening. That’s OK. 4:15 was always my true goal. I can do that. I can do that and I will live. I do not have to stop and walk, in order to live. I will live through running a 4:15 marathon. No, no, no, no, no, I am not going to walk. Just keep going. As the sun has risen in the sky, a few clouds have rolled in to keep it cool and comfortable. The setting is still heaven, but I am in hell.

I hit the wrong button on my stopwatch. I’ve lost my cumulative time. I’m too mentally hopeless to do math at this point, so I have only my heart rate to go by.

Sean meets me at mile 23, to run with me for the last 3 miles. Sweet fancy moses goddamn motherf*cking sh*t jesus mary and shiva this hurts so bad. I say something like that to him. I moan, grunt, complain, plead, groan, and he knows exactly where I’m at because he has done this 5 times. He goads, cajoles, coaches and distracts me toward my goal. Around mile 24 my right butt cheek seizes up, and along with the demented head-shaking I now have an ass-punching tic. I want to stop so badly. Would it be so bad to miss my target time? I feel utterly wretched. But I’m so close. Maybe I can still do it. I hit mile 25 and pick up the pace, but I have nothing left. I am whimpering.

I’ve done some pretty tough sh*t in my life, but never before have I ignored the raging demands of my body to just stop, for such an extended period of time.

Sean leaves me to run the last .2 on my own. “This is all yours,” he says. “You’ve done it. Enjoy it.” Man, am I glad I married that guy.

As I limp across the finish line, I hear my name and town. The race clock says 4:17:something. It doesn’t matter. It’s done. I can finally stop. I stagger through the chute, refuse the space blankets, let them remove my timing chip, bend down to receive the finisher’s medal, and collapse in a heap in Sean’s arms.

My final time is 4:17:00:00. Just 2 minutes off my target. I’m OK with that. I’m finally done, there are no mushrooms sprouting in my underdrawers, and it’s still a perfect day on the coast of Maine.

With the Tune-up miles locked in, I needed to add two extra miles to the start to meet my 20 mile run requirement for the week. This meant a 5am wake-up, train to 57th street, then the 2.6 run up to the start at 102 st on the East Side for a 7am start. (I know, boo-hoo, but hey, it’s my first marathon and I’ll moan if I want to!) After a bit of a battle with shin splints after an 18 miler to Coney Island last weekend, I will admit, I wasn’t feeling all that strong going into Sunday’s race/ run. I had been slow all week, and just couldn’t seem to get the lead out. I knew it was gonna be another difficult one when I stepped out of the house that morning- it was muggy and already 70 degrees– oh dear.

By the time I arrived at the start after my warm-up, I was already drenched with sweat. The humidity was at 93%, and I was praying for the sky to open up- no such luck. Knowing my body, I resolved to take it slow and just see what running with the crowd felt like, and listen to what my mind and body were doing and just take it nice and easy. After 3 miles I realized I was running a 9:20 mile pace and there wasn’t a darn thing I could do about it- nice and easy was all I had.

Running loops is definitely not my preferred training method. Even though I have a pretty nifty hill mantra (I love hills, I love *%$@*&% hills), I don’t like to have to use it on the same hill again and again- it seems to lose efficacy. That said; round and round the park I went for a good 15 (17.5 for me) miles with all systems pretty much in check. Slow, but in check.

It was at mile 15 that I realized that I must have dropped my 3rd Gel Pack somewhere. Opps! It was also at this moment that I also started to feel really cold. From sweaty to shivering in a matter of seconds. “Why didn’t I eat breakfast this morning?” Fearing a premature introduction to “The Wall”, I assured myself that I was fine, and reminded myself of the “Gel” table just past Columbus Circle at the bottom of the park on Central Park South. “All good, just get around the corner”, I told myself.

Just as I inched around the corner, and felt my head fill with cotton and my feet turn into 100 lb weights, I noticed that the table was empty.

“Well, hello Mr. Wall. So nice to finally meet you in person.” Maybe some good manners might soften the blow, I thought.

And it did. He’s a funny fellow that Mr. Wall. We laughed for a few steps, talking about what a crazy fool I am for taking this on. I should still be in bed, he’s right. Or better yet, glass of wine and a cozy couch. I know it’s only 9:30 am, but I’ve been up for almost 5 hours. TAXI!

We talked for a few more steps as warmth started to return to my arms, and we got near the Gatorade table- oh sweet nectar! “Three more miles, eh?” he asked. And with that, I was off. “What the hell is 3 miles?” was I needed to ask myself.

Just as I hit the 16 mile mark, I looked down and saw the brand of Gel I prefer. “Oh, wouldn’t that be nice,” I thought to myself. Then I thought for a moment and tried to do some math. Surprising how difficult that can be. My last gel was at 10 miles, the park is 6 miles. 10 plus 6 equals…come on Math don’t fail me know- 16! Oh my, it’s my Gel! Without thinking of how dirty NYC truly is (read: Horses in Central Park), I turned around, scooped it up and slurped it down- delicious, yummy, goodness, I love you Gel!

I don’t know if I really needed it or not, but I’m not trying to be a hero. Could I have run this race faster, sure? Should I have eaten breakfast? Yes! Will I run faster than a 9:40 pace on Marathon day? I don’t know. All I do know is that I ran 20 miles this weekend and I met “The Wall”- hopefully they will both be as gentle the next time we meet.

If you’ve never been to Coney you should make a trip ASAP. Those pernicious developers have their clutches on it and it’s fair to say that the next few years will likely yield a much different place. The result may be a more dynamic, vibrant and “safe” destination, but there are many amongst us who delight in the old, some what dilapidated carnie-hollow that Coney Island is today.

With that in mind, 5 of us headed out early Saturday for one of my favorite long runs. It’s a flat and easy 16 miles RT to Coney Island from Prospect Park and the payoff on this one is awesome. I mean, how many runs in NY involve a old-time carnival boardwalk??

A couple of those on-board have looming marathons in their sights; the White Witch is running NYC and All Business has the Philadelphia on deck. So I expect it was particularly encouraging to both of them that the distance felt so easy….especially one week after Reach the Beach. Just one of those magic days where the temperature is perfect, all systems check out, and the miles disappear in the rear view mirror with unusual ease.

Knowing that 2 days of running would put those blisters through the paces, I invested in a box of Dr. Scholl’s Blister Treatment Pads in hopes of protecting the now open blisters from getting rubbed raw and terrorizing my every step. While the box promises they will stay in place for up to a week and goes on and on about how you are going to have to soak with water water to remove, I can assure you these suckers can barely hang on for three miles, let alone a few hours!

In all fairness, while they were in place, they definitely provided a much needed cushion between the open wound and my sock, making it much easier to run than if there was nothing there at all. Further, I know it’s not totally fair to put these things up to such a challenge as a 208 mile over night relay race as a product review, but seriously. At almost $1 per pad, they should stay on for at least a few miles. Unfortunately, for all they promise-

* Helps heal and prevent blisters
* Stays comfortably in place
* Thin and flexible to conform to the heel and other areas of the foot
* Sterilized for safe use on open blisters
* Nearly invisible
* Water-resistant

I think they only thing they succeed at is being sterile, which while in an overnight endurance race (read: no shower) is very useful in treating wounds.

So, the search continues for a comfortable blister treatment. Until then, I guess it’s back to a sterile pad and moleskin for me.

Go Dukes!

Supported by our trusty west-coast Mission Control, we’ll be doing our damndest to live blog the effort. Expect up-to-the hour reports with all the latest on conditions, DOFB feats of strength, churlish rants and NIST certified chafe ratings.  So check here early and often, and keep your fingers crossed for our intrepid squad of running reprobates.

9/9 RTB Update
9/8 RTB Update
9/3 RTB Update
8/20 RTB Update
8/15 RTB Update
8/6 RTB Update

For those who may be in NH and inclined to come out and witness a spectacle, the Dukes are slotted for a 1:20pm Friday start and expect to finish on the coast sometime around 6 the following evening. Check out the course info for the nearest segment of the route & and do come out to properly heckle the teams.

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In totally unrelated 24 hr racing news, I recently came across another race that would likely appeal to a number of us – the 24 Hours of LeMons:

Each LeMons race is for cars purchased, fixed up, and track-prepped for a total of 500 dollars or less. But before reaching the grid, you’ll have to survive trials like the Personal-Injury-Lawyer Anti-Slalom, the Marxist-Valet Parking Challenge, and the Wide Open Throttle Rodthrowapalooza. Twelve hours into the race, the car voted People’s Choice is called in and awarded a cash prize; simultaneously, the car voted People’s Curse is called in and summarily destroyed. At the end of 24 hours, a gala awards ceremony plies the survivors with trophies, plaques, and four-figure purses in canvas bags full of nickels. What’s not to like?

This video of what happens to a cheater’s car is not to be missed – genius. We’ve already missed the East Coast season’s races, but I suspect you’ll be seeing a menacing DOFB beater entered in the years to come.

This evening one-third of Dukes: Team RTB took to the streets and bridle paths of Central Park for an evening jaunt. The run is of special significance because it marks two team members’ foray into an elite RTB training regimen; for our very own Stephanie and Kristin, it was their third run in 24 hours. They managed 6 last night, 5.5 this morning and capped it off with 4 tonight. Now that’s impressive! Meanwhile, reports suggest that Duke MFP has been knocking out two-a-days while Laura has been putting in 20+ mile days. And speed-demon Sean’s team The Chipmen rocked the Vermont 100 on 100 last Friday in a blistering 6:34 team pace, winning the Masters age group. Team Dukes will not be stopped!

RTB Training Tips:
*from now until race week, work in at least one two-a-day every week w/ 6+ mile legs
*train for your night leg: start wearing your headlamp or carrying a small flashlight on a long run each week (even if it’s a day run)
*if you don’t already own two new-ish pair of sneaks, get them; you’ll want to rotate shoes across your legs to prevent shin splints and other injuries

The Dukes showed up six runners strong and opted for the “longer” run which, while not really long, did provide all kinds of awesome scenery. I ran there and back as well, effectively doubling my mileage and upping the bridge-crossing ante (12 Miles, 4 spans crossed; 3X Manhattan & 1X BK). Great miles logged and hill training for RTB as the Manhattan and Brooklyn bridges have looonnnnnng grades. All in all, an excellent evening spent running with friends and some good new runners met.

RTB:
RTB Training Report 2
RTB Training Report 1
RTB Announcement

A study released two days ago by Stanford School of Medicine confirmed what many in the running community have long known – running slows the aging clock.

“When Fries and his team began this research in 1984, many scientists thought vigorous exercise would do older folks more harm than good. Some feared the long-term effect of the then-new jogging craze would be floods of orthopedic injuries, with older runners permanently hobbled by their exercise habit. Fries had a different hypothesis: he thought regular exercise would extend high-quality, disability-free life. Keeping the body moving, he speculated, wouldn’t necessarily extend longevity, but it would compress the period at the end of life when people couldn’t carry out daily tasks on their own. That idea came to be known as “the compression of morbidity theory.”

Fries’ team began tracking 538 runners over age 50, comparing them to a similar group of nonrunners. The subjects, now in their 70s and 80s, have answered yearly questionnaires about their ability to perform everyday activities such as walking, dressing and grooming, getting out of a chair and gripping objects. The researchers have used national death records to learn which participants died, and why. Nineteen years into the study, 34 percent of the nonrunners had died, compared to only 15 percent of the runners.”

Perhaps not the fountain of youth itself, but an elixer almost as good. Maybe ol Ponce de Leon shoulda pulled his conquistador head out of his armor ass and laced up a set of kicks.

On the ride up I experienced one of those moments that every rider dreads, the kind of thing that puts a not in your gut just thinking about. I blew a front tire on the Merritt traveling at highway speed in failing light. Blowing a front shoe is one of those things you hear about happening but is by no means a regular occurrence. In fact, most of the folks I know who’ve been riding for a lifetime have never had their number come up. Let me tell you something – it is not a good time.

The tire went flat in about 10-15 seconds. Not with a bang or a pop…just all of the sudden the handling characteristics changed. At first subtly enough to wonder if it was odd pavement. And then, very quickly, the front forks started traveling about a foot in either direction, yanking the steering back, serpentining the bike and generally making it impossible to control. Mind you 75% of the braking on most bikes, and prob 90% on mine, is done with the front brake. So it was a pretty impossible situation to get the bike to rapidly slow while keeping it upright.

With mountains of luck, and a formation of Dukes behind me making sure I wasn’t struck by an oncoming car, I managed to keep the shiny side up and get to the shoulder. Where I no doubt would have remained if it weren’t for the formidable aid and patience of Sergeant Raymond LaPlante of the Orange PD. Ray pulled up on his police Harley to see what was doing and, over the course of the next 12 hours, not only helped us sort out local accommodations, sustenance/beverages and a great mechanic, but actually borrowed a trailer and, (on his morning off with his young son in tow!), pulled the wounded SuperBad from where I’d stashed her in the woods overnight to the shop for an early am fix that got us back on the road.

Ray’s effort not only saved our trip from ruin, it reminded all of us a bit about what’s so special about riding. That it’s appreciably different than traveling the roads in a steel cage. There’s a different connectedness to the experience of moving from place to place. You don’t always know what might happen (especially on an old bike), but that the journey in and of itself is adventure. And, more than anything else, the camaraderie of two wheels and that bikers look after one another.

So a hearty DOFB thanks and toast to Ray LaPlante. We sent many a cold beer to it’s maker this past weekend and damn it all if most of mine weren’t dedicated to his awesomeocity. Keep the rubber side down and looking forward to when we get to ride together!

The SuperBad being seen to by Art Handleman @ Valley Motorsports in Ansonia, CT. If you’re ever in a pinch with your machine in CT – Art’s the man to get you back on the road.
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Turns out – I had a “rust-based failure”. On older bikes that have seen weather at one point or another, the insides of the rims can get to rusting. Small metal filings eventually peel off and will, inevitably, roughly have their way with your tube. Here’s the shop tech de-rustifying the inside of my front rim.

To recap = small metal filings + rubber innertube + highway speed = bad. Put it on your list of shit to think about if you have a late model ride.
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Sergeant Ray and his awesome little boy Nathan flying the DOFB flag after dropping our side-show off at the shop. Nathan’s already bewitched by bikes and shows great promise. Rumor has it Ray may be heading up to NH this weekend as well. Boundless thanks to both of them for spending their morning sorting us out – couldn’t have done it without you fellahs. Have an awesome ride to the granite state Ray!
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Th big man…..Emperor of the Rage Hut, host for this Bike Week jaunt and head of the New Hampshire DOFB Chapter. Not a finer NH specimen to be found.
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Ride on Winni to the Wiers for a peek around, some grub and one (read:10) Margarita.
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Graham lends a helping hand to a parched Hombre
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2300 CC Triumph Rocket Sled….daaaaamn.
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Sweet trike art – Rowwwrrrrrr.
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The next day the Big Man took us on an epic ride up over the Sandwich Notch road, around through Waterville Valley and back over the Kank. Being dirt, recently graded and pretty steep in many places, The Notch road was especially challenging for some of the bikes. Fritz on the Yammie FJR1300 gets the hero’s salute for muscling that beast all the way through safely. That bike was built for smooth speed and she was more than a little ornery about the conditions. He rodeoed it though and, in exchange, was treated to a singular adventure through pristine NH back country. Nice work man.
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Big and mean never goes out of style in NH.
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DOFB, now with more Back Road Action!
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Juanito going native. The arm stripes perhaps suggest some sort of vestment. A man of the cloth? A country bishop perhaps?

Subsequently gathered evidence would seem to contravene this hypothesis.
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Graham loves it.
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Like Rodin’s thinker, this Duke too is made of granite. NH Chapter member (and lead carpenter) Whitney on his KLR. The KLR really is a perfect match for this guy and his natural surroundings.
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Top of the Kank….one of the best roads for riding on the East Coast and my personal favorite. The Dukes relay team will also be running the Kank this coming fall in the “Reach the Beach” 200+ mile relay. A painful reality not lost on those of us who’ll be on the squad as we climbed upward for 13 miles….
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Stop in Chocorua to visit the DOFB patron Saint – Ghee. Here’s she’s getting her annual ride around the block on the back of the Guzzer.
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Fritz on the Yammie. Can you believe he just took that 600lb beast over 20+ miles of mushy dirt logging roads?!?
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Heading back into the Wiers we start to get a taste of the action.
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Bike traffic for miles.
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Some local fauna met in traffic. The lady on the front claimed to have been arrested at last year’s bike week for mistakenly slugging a cop. Oops. Things can get a little dicey at Bike Week but come on ladies. These two sisters seemed a wee interested in a certain debonair Duke.
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This guy – can you believe it? No accounting for taste I suppose…
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Sunset at the rage Hut
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That pretty much concludes our trip. There were some other adventures had…a visit to the Franklin Girls’ natural lair, a few ‘old bike’ struggles with the Guzzi, electrical gremlins with the Triumph and many many coordinated high speed drifts to the curb of the highway for one dangling plate/about to be lost luggage/ atomic wedgie or another. But you’ll get that on these rolling thunder jobs.

Next year we’ll hope to have a bit more time and get a little more submersion into the epicenter of Bike Week. But I know I wouldn’t trade the ride we had on Saturday for much of anything – pure magic.

Thanks to everyone who was involved in making it happen this year…Ray and Chris especially!

DAY 6

If you have been reading this story up ’til now, you may have the sense that I have a lot of off-road motorcycle experience. I have logged tens of thousands of highway miles, but only ridden a few hundred off-road prior to this trip. Lacking the requisite skills, I’d force myself through sections of the course which really took a physical toll. Here’s where things stood:

I found out when I got back to the States that I was riding with a separated shoulder, torn Labrum and bruised collarbone – injuries from a ride I had taken weeks earlier in Utah. I had trouble opening and closing my swollen hands – they were most comfortable in a clawlike position, a result of holding onto grips all day long. It would take about 15 minutes of exercise in the morning to get to the point where they were useful.

I had developed large blisters on my palms as well as a gash on my right butt cheek that had been rubbed completely raw. I did my best with Vaseline, Neosporin and moleskin to repair the damage. I suffered from any number of bruises and pains, randomly distributed across my 36 year old frame. In short, I am seriously banged up.

Day 6 was just shy of 300 miles, the longest day of the trip. I’d consider 300 miles to be a good day on highways so when you think about doing it in Baja, in those conditions, it’s really something. I begun the day with trepidation, but had managed 800 miles and felt reasonably prepared for the day ahead.

The first section was indescribably beautiful. We followed dirt roads that hugged a mountain for 30 miles. The views were incredible.

Amidst the beauty is a great deal of danger. This particular road had incredibly sharp turns and drop-offs of hundreds of feet. I rode this section very slowly and carefully. I couldn’t help thinking about the Baja 1000 race as this had been a section of the 2007 course. I hard trouble imagining doing it at speed, at night, amongst cars – it really gave me pause.

This road eventually lead to a small town, lined with pristine cobblestone streets and home of the Mission de San Francisco Javier Vigge Bigundo. It was founded in 1699 and the structure was built from 1744 to 1758. On December 2nd each year, thousands of pilgrims flock from all over Mexico to this special place.

The next 70 miles were fast and fun. A sandy road with gravel here and there, big straightaways and wide sweeping turns. This section had tons of water crossings which helped cool you down and added variety. We were criss-crossing rancher’s land so every now and then you’d make it past a home where cattle gathered for water and food. As soon as you saw any sign of civilization, you immediately downshift and stand – looking for cows or donkeys which would invariably be around the next corner.

We would ride staggered in groups so it wasn’t uncommon to be riding alone for an hour or more – you find a natural cadence and really get into it. We’d stop every 30 miles or so to catch up, check oil, get a drink of water.

We then made it to the highway where we met our supply truck. We fueled the bikes and grabbed a bite to eat. In no time, we were back on the road, riding 60 miles of boring blacktop. We then cut off the highway around 170 miles into the day. We ran across some riders from the Malcom Smith group who told us to be very careful on the section ahead. It was Sunday and a favorite local pastime is boozing and taking 4×4′s out in the desert. Be very alert. Look out for cars.

This section lasted around 40 miles and was incredibly brutal. The road was filled with good sized rocks and portions were completely devoid of sand, so you’d come over a hill and be riding across what amounted to chewed up concrete. It was also mentally tough because you wouldn’t see any other riders – I felt very isolated, facing an endless desert ahead.

I was doing my best to keep a decent pace, probably riding around 25-30mph when I struck a small boulder. In a millisecond, I was catapulted off the road, narrowly passing between two large boulders – this is all happening very fast. Another boulder was directly in my path so I cut the steering hard left to get back on the road. The only problem was a large cactus directly in my path. I hit it dead on, causing it to explode into a million barbs. Many found purchase in my right arm. In another millisecond, I was back on the road and stopped. To be completely honest – I was incredibly freaked out at this point. I had come really close to eating it in the middle of the desert, alone and under a hundred degree sun. I rested for a minute or two and thought the best thing was not to overthink what had happened, but to immediately keep going. I desperately wanted to get through this section as it was getting the better of me.

I got the bike up into 3rd gear and everything felt wrong. It seemed like things weren’t clicking. I shifted into second and didn’t feel any better. I tried first, more of the same. I felt that I was starting to lose it, so I sped up into third and decided to grin and bear it. When I caught up with my group about 10 miles later, they pointed out that I had a flat. I had been riding on my rim. In my adrenalin-fueled freak out, I hadn’t even noticed.

We swapped my tire and another for our guide, George. They also helped pull the cactus spines out of my right arm. At this point, I have ridden about 200 miles and am really starting to feel it. We have 100 miles left and are almost to the silt, an infamous section of Baja. Oh dear god.

We hit the silt about 20 miles later. Silt has the consistency of talcum powder – it is incredibly fine. If you hit a patch of silt at speed, your bike will immediately slow down, likely throwing you from your mount. You need to approach with caution and once you are in it, keep the bike in 2nd gear and hammer the throttle. You won’t be able to see anything as you are encased in a fine mist – you really just point the bike in a direction of your choosing and hope for the best. If that isn’t bad enough, these sections aren’t on level ground – they are on windy uphills and downhills. It is the devil himself.

I was pretty burnt out at this point and had a lot of difficulty. I dropped my bike at least 5 times. Picking up a bike over and over is very tiring, especially in this stuff. People say that every time you pick up a bike it adds 20 miles to your day. I’m not sure if that’s right, but I was completely exhausted. One of the guides, Pepe, helped me get the bike into the desert, off the silt – and we navigated a course around it. It was the only way I could get through.

I have now reached a point where I have gone far past my physical limits. I have to lay against the bike while I’m riding – I’m too tired to keep myself upright. It’s scary because you know you shouldn’t be riding, but there are really no options. Keep moving as fast as you can.

I’m riding along at 35mph and about to cross a wash, basically a dried out riverbed. As I’m coming down a small hill to cross it, I catch something out of my right eye in the periphery. It appears to be a truck and I’m going to hit it. I immediately locked both brakes, but you just slide in the sand – your speed doesn’t decrease fast enough. I made a decision at that point to bail from the bike. I simply jumped off. The bike went to the right and I ended up lying on the ground, looking straight ahead. I then saw the tires of a speeding black Cherokee jeep pass directly in front of my eyes, less than a foot away. That one second lasted forever.

I realized that I had come pretty close to cashing out, right then, right there. I knew there were other riders behind me so I crawled off the road to avoid getting hit. I pulled myself up onto a log and completely broke down. I was physically and emotionally gone. I have never felt this way before – there was nothing left inside me. I would never wish that feeling upon anyone.

A guide had been riding just behind me and saw the whole thing go down. He never even saw the truck until it blew by me as I laid in the road. The driver stopped – he was coming from a fishing camp just down the coast. He was as freaked out as I was. I couldn’t even speak to him. I couldn’t speak to anyone. I just sat there.

After 5 minutes, I drank a little water and took inventory. I had to ride at least 30 more off-road miles until we met the truck. We then had 30 miles of blacktop to La Paz. I had no choice, but to continue on. I got back on the bike and got it done. The only way I could get through it was to tell myself that I would never have to come back here and race the Baja 1000. At that moment – the thought of it was simply too much.

I didn’t drive fast, but I got it done. This picture was taken about 15 minutes after the near miss, when I met up with the group and where we recounted what had happened. I didn’t want to talk about it. I wanted to enjoy the view, listen to the waves, be far away. Pepe told the story. Thanks Pepe.

I made it to the truck. And then I rode the highway miles into town. I wasn’t going to put my bike on the truck. Baja may have won that day, but I would ride every single mile to Cabo – I would not let Baja beat me.

La Paz is a lovely town, but I’m far too exhausted to go on – this has been a long post and one that I have dreaded writing. I hope it doesn’t dissuade anyone from going down there and experiencing it for themselves. This could have happened anywhere. When it’s your time, it’s your time. And I may just be crazy enough to go down there next year and do that race. If I do and can get that done, it would be the greatest accomplishment of my life. I have no doubt.

Stay tuned for the final installment…

The Dukes at the 2007 Finish Line

Sometimes a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do and, I guess, this is one of those times for our beloved admin, erstwhile coach, training partner extraordinaire and certified master of the grill Jeff. He’s packed up the shop, loaded what’s important and is redeploying to the left coast in search of fortune, adventure and cracked crab. As we all navigate the fog caused by last night’s sayonara wumpus, I’d just like to pause for the cause and give a hearty HUZZAH to our partner in crime.

Fare thee well sir. You’ll be sorely missed but we’ve every confidence you’ll quickly get to holdin’ it down out there and swelling the ranks of the Dukes West Coast Chapter. Write when you get work and we’ll come inspect your beachhead.

Vaya con dios y un gato en tu pantalones Amigo.
-mismanagement

With last week’s miserable Brooklyn 1/2, Eve, Fayth & Jeff’s inspiring progress and the looming Shelter island 10k….my mind is on training. Those of you who’ve been around here a while are aware of our intense fondness for the SI 10k. For newcomers – this is really one of the best races out there and is easily my favorite of the year.

Thanks to the kindness, fortitude and enduring patience of founding Duke and all around menace Graham, the club’s membership is regularly treated to all the awesome that Shelter Island has to offer. As if the island’s beauty, copious ocean action and serenity weren’t adequate; once a year they’re kind enough to host a world class 10k complete with speedy Kenyans, top notch race support and cheering crowds. It seems like the entire island comes out (appropriate summer cocktails in hand, of course) to cheer the racers & the result is a singular racing experience.

That in mind, it’s easy to understand how central the SI 10K is for the Dukes of Flatbush. For some reason the organizers had last year’s race early in the season (about this time) and we still fielded a strong 10 person squad. This year the race has shifted back to a summertime event and is, in fact, going to be on the official first day of summer: June 21.

This race can inspire feats of strength and many Dukes, myself included, are aiming to turn in PRs this year. With 5 weeks between now and then, training is full on. I ran a 40:30 (6:31 mile pace)last year, so I’ve definitely got some hard workouts to get in if I want to have a shot at cracking 40:00. Encouragingly, I actually mustered a pretty quick 12 miler out in Shelter yesterday and feel none-the-worse today.

Best wishes to everyone training for the SI 10K; especially to all the dangerous Dukes out there. Hopefully we can field a 15 person squad in this year’s race and get our team picture in the Shelter Island Reporter!

The Garmin 405 is way smaller than the 305 or other previous generations. I do not have a big wrist and this watch felt “normal” on my wrist as opposed to an alarm clock on my wrist, which is how I would describe the previous generations when I tried them on. You can wear this watch on a daily basis and not notice it.

Now comes the interesting part, figuring out how this works:

Setup – The Garmin walks you through a menu set up and is very simple to get set up. Piece of cake

Satellites - I am not sure if it is NYC or this watch, but acquiring satellites for the first time took a few minutes. Once acquired I think I lost the signal a few times as the time on the watch showed a half hour before actual time. It took about 25 minutes for the correct time to appear

Screen – I have not gone through many screen, but viewing the screen was easy. I know there were worries that the screen size would be too small but I could see all readouts simply. The other cool thing is if you touch both sides of the bezel at the same time the backlight will go on, super simple and easy. This is a great feature when running at night.

Bezel – I am still working out how the bezel works and it is not that simple. The first thing I did was shut off the beeps for each touch of the bezel, it will drive you insane. Going through the menus is simple but figuring out what to do next and programming is not easy, but a few days with the manual and I think it will be OK.

Heart Rate Monitor – I have not tried this part out yet, so TBD

Pace Accuracy – I ran a route that I know is 5 miles and the Garmin came back with 5.01 miles, so pretty good there. I felt a ran a solid 7:40/mile pace and the Garmin told me I was running a 7:37. Unfortunately the pace was not accurate the whole way through as the satellites went in and out.

Overall I am a big fan of the Garmin 405 and if you do not mind spending (it is pricey) then pick one up if you can find it

As soon as my Gamin 405 is delivered I will take it out for a test run and have a review with pictures. Pray for UPS and some nice weather tomorrow.

To prepare for the pace, I have gone back to the track for some speed workouts, which are horrific and vomit inducing, but would love to share with you for those who want to speed work.

On a standard 400m track, do one lap below 1 minute 30 seconds, then slowly jog (hate the word) or shuffle your feet to keep moving for 1 minute, then repeat the fast lap. Then wash rinse, repeat for 8 fast laps, trying to stay below a set time (mine is 1:30).

I have no scientific proof for this method as I have cobbled it together from a few training gurus, but give it a shot, if you do not get faster, you will puke, gonna be fun either way.

Tomorrow morning I will try to hook up with the Shampoos for an easy 8-10 mile run before our annual Crawfish Boil. Then let the good times roll.

Crawfish Boil pictures and report to follow later this week

The bridge has both the North and South paths open and was full of people enjoying the sunny day. As usual everyone stays on the North path (pictured), which I think is due to the entrance on the Brooklyn side for the South entrance being hidden.

Running through Williamsburg for the first time in 4 months, I had a chance to see the incredible construction going on and the progress that has happened in 4 months. Kent Ave has become a full on construction zone, where in the next year thousands of people will live. Is a always strange to think that a few years ago I would run there without seeing a soul.

One soul that I did see on the corner of Kent & N.12th asked me for directions, which unfortunately I could not help them with. My question to other runners, when you are out there do you stop if people ask you for directions or do you wave them off? I know everyone thinks they would stop, but would you? Do you?

Now to step off my preachers box and explain why this new product from Nike makes me happy, which is strange since I really do not like most Nike running gear.

The Nike + Sportband is the first product that allows runners to use the Nike + system without having to use their Ipod Nano at the same time . So this means you can use all the cool Nike systems without having to listen to music while you run.

Below is the info from Nike and their marketing wizards:

Nike+ SportBand allows runners to see their distance, pace, time and calories burned when they run, in addition to gaining access to all of the features and tools on nikeplus.com. Designed for runners who choose not to run with music and for those times when you can’t use music, the Nike+ SportBand provides all the benefits of Nike+ technology, but opens up the Nike+ experience to a broader audience of runners. Runners who enjoy that extra motivation, or who are music fans, can continue to hear their run details through an iPod nano system.

Today, an article in the New York Times reports that scientists have proven there is such a thing as “runners high” by use of PET scans and other acronym related tests on runners. You will have to read the article to understand the protocols and tests used, but for most runners this was already a known yet unproven fact.

Why else would we be out there running miles and miles, morning and night through cold, rain, heat and snow. For our health? Well that may have something to do with it, but the feeling after a great run is why I am out there and thank you scientists for giving me demonstrated proof that there is a reason I will wake up at 6:00am on a below freezing morning besides being insane.

The Brooklyn Half Marathon is one of the premiere events in the Dukes of Flatbush racing schedule and is on home turf. The race starts on the Coney Island boardwalk and then is a flat pancake run down Ocean Parkway and a fantastic finish inside Prospect Park.

I hope that this last minute schedule change does not impede anyone from joining (myself included) and may allow for more entrants as it does not conflict with Passover and gives all aspiring runners an extra week to train.

Here is the official note from the NYRR regarding the date change and what runners can do about it:

For those who have already registered, NYRR is offering three options to resolve issues resulting from this change:

* Leave your entry as it stands and run the race on May 3

* Contact NYRR by 11:59 p.m. on March 31 and request that your entry be transferred to another equivalent NYRR event of your choice

* Contact NYRR by 11:59 p.m. on March 31 and request a coupon good for entry to another equivalent NYRR event that you will choose at a later time

Well now Garmin has delayed the release date to the mysterious Q2 2008. It seems they are pushing back the release date to coincide with the 2008 Boston Marathon. Great for marketing, terrible for us early adopters who need to receive the first shipment of running gear.

Garmin has decided to appease us with new shots of the display of the Garmin 405 and this did not help. It only made me wish I had this yesterday.

UPDATE ON 04/29/08 – See my post on delivery  

Check these out:

The Front Brake Must Be Used With Caution: For those of who have spent a lifetime on street bikes, this one’s pretty tough. On a street bike at least 80% of your braking power comes out of the front end & I know some folks who’ve probably never even used the rear set. Dirt bikes, however, are different. First and foremost, there’s little in the way of a traction coefficient on sand or dirt. If you hit the brakes they lock and you’re sliding. While the front disc remains the more powerful of the two brakes, as it has greater capacity to slow rather than lock, the nature of the terrain adds far more variables to the equation. Long story short, until you master some of the more formulaic braking techniques, front braking has a tendency to make the bike duck/tuck the front end which leads to immediate instability. As a result, speed in loose pack, especially downhill, is best controlled with a combination of engine breaking/clutch feathering and rear breaking.

Riding MX is All About Legs and Core: The key to good riding, (and by that I mean keeping the tires down and the plastics up), is rapid weight redistribution. Everyone has different styles but I find that the best way to do this is to spend the majority of time standing on the pegs. Standing allows you to more rapidly react to the forces that are acting on the bike as a result of uneven terrain; especially at speed. Keeping your weight deep in your heels further helps keep your center of gravity low and your chassis glued to the machine rather than rocketing through the air with every bounce. Standing on the pegs for long periods, and essentially acting as a human shock absorber, requires serious leg and core strength.

Acceleration is the Solution to Most Problems: Acceleration on loose terrain (sand, soft-pack, talus) = traction. In almost any situation, whether coming into a sand turn, climbing a hill of fractured shale or negotiating single-track, a firm grasp on the surface is what you’re lookin’ for. It’s sort of like driving at speed on slipper snow. Counter intuitive as it may feel, giving it the juice seems to be the best way to get out of situations that are heading south.

Weight forward on turns: Turning in sand,  gravel or on a steep dirt incline is sketchy business. Your natural inclination is to sit back and try to force the handlebars around the turn. What you really want to do is try to put as much weight as possible on the front tire to ensure it tracks tightly around the corner. In sand, gravel etc. the easiest way to do this is by sliding way up front on the bike so your humping the tank and then use your inside leg as an outrigger as necessary. On the steeps it’s easiest to stand and then force your weight forward onto the bars.

Air time Is Good Time: Can’t be afraid to air it out. On the whoops – just gas it till your bounding across the tops. In the pits/dunes…well, try to keep your weight as centered and let’er rip.

For more riding tips, check out Dirt Rider. Man this shit is fun!