The forecast is sorting itself out for the end of the week in NH and the DOFB team is in the final, nostrils flared in anticipation, stages of preparation. Bags have been packed, night-gear tested, anti-chaffing salves concocted and distance mantras honed. Not a whole lot left to do but hop in the van Thursday evening, head north and hope Ike doesn’t change his mind!

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.

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The Dukes of Flatbush have fielded a 12 person team to race in the 2008 Reach the Beach relay race next Friday. If you haven’t seen the other posts, it’s a continuous 24 hour relay race that covers 210 miles. We’ll each do three legs, running one leg every 8 hours or so. I just downloaded the .kmz file for Google Earth so I could get a bird’s eye view and I gotta say, this is some pretty impressive distance for 24 hours. The course starts in the Northwest corner of New Hampshire and runs all the way to the beach in the Southeast corner. All I can say is “Res Firma Nitescere Descit”.

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At long last, it’s The New Guy (holy crap it’s about time!) with his inaugural dofb post. It’s only fitting that Reach the Beach take top billing.

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

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A group of Dukes went out Wednesday night and ran with the NYC Bridge Runners. The Bridge Runners are an area running crew that are somehow affiliated with Nike and promote running over, well, bridges. It’s always cool to take a lope that includes one of NYC’s amazing spans & it was an added bonus to do it with a bunch of new faces. The Bridge Runners have weekly runs on Wednesday night and usually offer two different options of varying length.

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

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It doesn’t take being lapped by too many octogenarians out on the road to begin harboring home-baked theories about the prolonging effects of running. The sheer number of active, fit and healthy older runners certainly eclipses what could be considered the confines of a “lucky few” gene-pool. However, much of the medical establishment has long adamantly championed that strenuous activity, and running in particular, has more profound negative effects on the aging than it does positive.

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.

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Well, the DOFB more than survived it’s trip to Laconia for Bike Week ’08. In fact, a damn fine time was had by all on a ride that was, as any proper bike adventure should be, filled with hilarity, calamities averted and plenty of cold suds. I’ll let the pictures do most of the talking, but first I’d just like to say a word or 100 about one particularly memorable event.

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!

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Just ran across this footage of trucks dealing with the silt during the 2007 Baja 1000. It’s the best video I’ve seen that illustrates the insanity of those sections. Also has some crashes that make a brother say “awoooooogah” – enjoy!

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I just got back from a 1,230 mile off-road motorcycle trip from Ensenada to Cabo San Lucas. It was a training run to prepare for the Baja 1000. If you’re new, start at the beginning. Otherwise, here’s part six of the story…

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…

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The 2008 Shelter Island 10k is only a few weeks away – official start at 5:30PM on June 21st. If you have never been to Shelter Island, it’s located on the East End of Long Island, accessible by short ferry rides from Greenport (North Fork) or North Haven (South Fork). I highly recommend this run if you haven’t done it before. It’s an idyllic course past horse farms, coastline, golf courses, churches and the course is lined with locals holding cocktail parties on their lawns. A real hometown feel. We had 9 Dukes last year in the race, trying to get 15 this year. So come one, come all!

The Dukes at the 2007 Finish Line

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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

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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!

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Here are my initial thoughts and a quick review of the Garmin Forerunner 405 with HRM. This is my first Garmin Forerunner so I cannot compare usage against previous generations on usage but……..

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

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After months of waiting and confusion on delivery dates that I have documented in the past, my Garmin 405 is finally on the way and is being shipped overnight. Now I know many will want to know where this magic shipment of Garmin 405′s came from and shockingly it came from the NYRR. It seems some of the major running clubs got the first shipment of a small number of Garmin 405′s and I was lucky enough to get my order in before they sold out.

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.

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This past week has been the final week of hard training before the Brooklyn Half Marathon next week and I guess a mini-taper. I think the whole team has been putting in the miles and getting ready for the race. This is going to be a fun one and hopefully able to get close to a 1:35 half. With Birch pacing I think it is a possibility.

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

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This weekend brought some nice weather and my first chance to run one of my favorite paths, from the East Village over the Williamsburg Bridge to McCarren Park and back.

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?

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