come on irene

And the hurricane Irene blew. Blowing the electricity from much of Boston, a young girl's birthday candle out in a puff. Ten or so hours we had no power and dismissing the idea of not running we waited, passing the time with a few beers and then a couple hours nap. Stirring around, before waking up, there is a letting go of when the power would come back as we just wondered when a run would be possible. Getting up around 7pm, the storm broken, the electricity returned and we start to get ready for a night run.

a worthy week

Almost thirteen hours. Thirteen hours on a Saturday. Giving the both of us almost 60hours of work for the week. Straggling home, the storm brewing a frothy windy mess, we are both pooped. A week of moving various people's furniture, books and an array of personal belongings which make me tire just recounting them. All over Boston we ran these items and it has changed the week.

Accomplishing the two main objectives for the week, a tempo run Monday and sprints on Friday, we are both on the same track. Darkness creeps in, a welcome intruder, within thirty minutes of being home. Without any regret we call our third day off for the week. A rarity, but one that has worth.

Four little words

Stepping over your knee. Four words to repeat, and there is a direct relation to the amplitude with which you step over and the distance you are trying to run. At the beginning of a distance race it is a mild reminder but, just like, "go to your arms" it should be be focused upon towards the end of any race with true intensity. In a shorter race, say the 800 and down, it should be emphasized the whole way. Sprinting a 60yard rep, four total for the day with five plus minutes rest in between, my mind calls upon those four words with a concerted input ending in an output freed through my body.

up & down the river

Out. Out down jumbled streets. Eyes loosely capture worn sidewalk dotted with bursting ground leaving tar pealing away with the love of a small bandage attached to a child about ten who has had it stuck to her for a few days due to a small wound producing tears bringing forth a Neosporin smeared band-aid healing the wound before the adhesiveness has been lost and washed away. Following the opposite side of the street's flow for a half mile feeding to a mild tributary bringing a waterfall of hill. Climbing for a while flattens into a calm winding trickle. Then, through a wide lush gushing the fountainhead is found and we turn around to ride the river home.

1/3 of a year's entries

the title suffices

this little light of mine

First night run since Jen made the move from Bangor. Reflector vests reflect what the night brings. Shining patches of light streaks through busy streets remind the vehicles of us on our feet. Even with the lights shining down on us, umbrellas of brightness around corner stores and the penetrating sometimes aggressive stairs of traffic pacing by it is still prudent to wear a reflector vest.

Setting a pace

A tempo day, back at Walpole high school. At around six pm kids from young teens to late single digits are practicing football on a turf field. Parents dot the fence encasing the track. Showing up twenty-five minutes earlier the warm-up is finished.

Time to run, as legs gather momentum towards the start line for running, round and round we go. As our pace is gathered we relax into a soft place. It is here that we know, as the boys clash against each other and the noise makes a pounding sound, that outsides callings are somehow quenched by effort. That it is through trying, mustering every carb cache we have that we find freedom.

Remember you can always run

A day of annoyance seemingly nonexistent. The pain of logging a day that has disappeared into the past, not even gone in a flash. What was normal moments are now filled with copious awkwardness. Relax, it was just the lack of the run. Remember that a day off is good for the legs, but it often leaves the heart lost.

abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxy & z

air assaults all around
Buffering between breaths
clamorous cacophony clangs
entrapped encased ending
feeling falling fair
head hurts heart
inside integrity inflairs
jestingly jokes jump
killing kindness know
love live laugh
my mothers might
never no not
open outside only
please promise passed
quitely quickness quelled
run race rush
so surrender sought
true true truth
understanding unvieled unthinkable
very vast valiant
willingly work wish
xemplify xamine xist
youth young yes
&
zeal zealous zest

speed kills- all those who dont have any

"I believe that you're born with a certain gift for speed and a certain gift for endurance and that both can be improved with work." -Jack Daniels


Starting a run from a good forty meters from where Jen waits with watch. Gaining momentum to hit the spot at full sprint I proceed with an all out effort for six seconds. Six seconds of stepping over my knee followed by a full application of force to the ground. A relaxed aggressiveness moves me forward with giant strides off-placed with balanced swinging of arms. Then Jen shouts and I stop, six second done and it is her turn to get a good running start and to then do six seconds of all out sprinting. In between is roughly five minutes rest as we rack up three six second sprints.

If toughness, training direction and racing opportunity are equal then speed is the definition of talent in running. With our spring season so many months away we are working on the base of our talent, with an upper limit set by genetics. However, if you never recruit this base of speed then genetics don't matter, you will never have that dormant speed to use.

A candle burns brightest when left to light again

A day off from running creeps into our week unplanned but prudent. So much has been happening but at one point or another a candle cannot be burned at both ends. A day of rest adds wax to waning candle so that it may burn bright again another day.

clean laundry

Starting a load of laundry at the Walpole laundromat, the end result to clean articles that are dirty. To pass the time we are out the door, off for a twenty minute run. Checking in, still fifteen minutes of washing to go we start hopping, skipping and jumping around the parking lot in a series of "drills". Switching the wet clean clothing into a large dryer we have more time to kill with more drills to accomplish. Finishing up the dryer's load we culminate our workout with three hard uphill strides. Packing the freshly laundered clothing up, sweet detergent smell light in the air reminding me of growing up with sweat drying to a salty crisp on skin that has worked a full day before this run, we none the less feel that the process has made ourselves clean.

Tempo run

Track workouts. What are they? A lot of vocabulary is thrown around in running. One of the most ingratiating is "speed work" but whenever I hear it casually used by a runner I know they don't really have a clue what they are talking about. For them, it is anytime they go to the track. For us, track workouts have a few very nuanced components.

One major issue is accountability of pacing. The idea is to run an even intensity, and this means an even pace if there aren't any barriers such as wind. A second issue is rest in comparison to the bout that was just run. This means for some workouts there is very little rest in comparison to what was just run. For other workouts there is, approximately, an even amount of rest-time to run-time. Finally for another type of workout there is much more rest-time than time just ran.

Anaerobic threshold, or tempo, running is the pace correlating to what an athlete could do for 40-60 minutes in an ideal racing situation. Like all the workouts, the key to it is an even intensity; one of calculated measured pacing. To run faster is just as detrimental as to run slower. For some runners this is 10k pace, while for others it is just quicker than their half marathon pace. This can be done in a solid 20-40 minute tempo run, or can be done in "cruise intervals" or 3-15min blocks with roughly one minute rest for each 5 min just ran. SO 3 x 7min Tempo would have roughly 90 seconds rest in between.

The bare minimum is 20 minutes total with an upper limit of 40 minutes total. A 20 minute tempo run might seem daunting, or even 4 or 5 by 5 minute tempo with one minute rest in between. However, once acclimation is acquired to this pacing the true benefits of this training is gained. It gives you confidence in performance, and a real belief in the strength of your legs. Most importantly it can replace a long run, with much more race specific training and none of the repetitive-motion-injury associated with running long. I know I am reiterating but the key, once again, is even-pacing. If you can understand that... then temptastic!

coaching respect

We start our tempo workout at Walpole High School's track, which wraps around the turf football field. There are about 80-120 youths, ranging from around 3rd to 6th grade, practicing football in rain and wind as we huff and puff through our managed workout.

"Don't drop the ball!! Why don't you listen?! You gotta do it this way!", screams one of the coaches to a child as they practice just feet from me next to the sideline. While the workout takes a considerable amount of concentration its' actual intensity is not that hard with a pace that correlates to what could be maintained for around an hour in a race situation.

Slipping from my mouth comes, and not at a level to be called inaudible, "what an asshole" before I can think of how inappropriate it is for me to say that in front of children. Regardless, my run continues and so does the practice for the children. Not sure if anyone heard, the minutes tick away as I put together a combined total of almost forty minutes of running at 5:30ish pace.

As my run is ending, maybe about ten minutes left of anaerobic threshold running, I hear a change in the way the coach is talking to the kids. "Remember, use the hands god gave you," he says with the same Boston accent but a lot less tough gruff. I then find myself remembering that children are lucky to have people that care as much as these men do in their lives. I hope that these coaches remember, as they are brimming with passion, that the worst injury any child can suffer is that of losing love for a sport and that as coaches they hold so much of a young athletes esteem in their hands. Successful workout done I walk away from the track with a begrudging respect for a man that does not do things my way but is still there, in wind and rain, for the kids.

Getting on track

Finding the track at Walpole High School was easy. Just a handful of miles from Patriot Relocation sits the six lanes surrounding a turf football field. Getting there, a warm up is started. Looking at Jen, an understanding flashes between eyes that are weary from moving and adjusting to a new place. She knows what is best but doesn't say anything. As we hit about five minutes into our warm up, a suggestion flows forth from a mouth that was withholding the best idea for a bit.

"Today is just going to be an easy twenty minutes with strides and tomorrow will be the workout"

As the idea hits her, relief cascades over her face and she is happy. The goal today was to do a workout, however yesterday we didn't even know where the track was located. Today, confident of returning the next day, its almost as if we did accomplish the workout.

Haikulometer

Remembering pain
unlocks inhibited goals
strength comes from within

Together Again

Leaving the ware house, at about 11:45pm, off to see my wife for the first time in a week. Interstate 95 is clear, except a smattering of late night traffic. Our dog Sable sits in the front seat of a blue moving van, panting along to the music keeping me awake as we hum along highway expecting our reunion. Draining the cup of coffee, nature's wake up juice, I know in an hour we will be together again. Picking her up at my High School teammate's house, she quickly presses her lips against mine. Bangor is gone, a part of the past now, somewhere we used to live. Now it is the Boston area and while we haven't even moved into our place yet, it already feels like home.

how why and where

We all run. Sometimes we run from what we want, driven by fear of failure. Then there are other moments, where we run towards what we desire. Both are often done with single-minded purpose, looking at one thing, an answer at the end of a question; can I do this?

Then there are the moments of standing still, but these are an integral part of our runs. For it is here, at the moment that we do not move at all, that we start towards or away from something. It is here, when we stand still and listen to our desires, that we truly decide how, why and where we are about to move.

abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxy & z

All beaten can Dagan ever freely go? How I jest! Knowingly loving my next option, placing quiet resolve, subtly trying unites values... withdrawal X's you & zest!

driving me crazy

Against the grain of traffic, a sharp bend reaches out on the road leading to busy route one. Only a few hundred meters from the bustle of that busy street, this quite road receives the offshoots of a more aggressive artery bleeding itself from Foxboro into Boston.

At 9pm, running through a gentle drizzle that is greeting this lone athlete as a faint caress of the cities night a sense of peace is settling. Heading back to the ware house I take this sharp bend a few hundred meters before route one. Coming around the bend is a pair of headlights that are unaware of the man working towards their origin of only scant minutes past. With a practiced side hop, I land deep in the grass growing from the shoulder and the car whips by laying on the horn. Glancing at the license plate I yell back at the screaming car, "I have the right of way license plate ########" and continue on. Returning to the shop a few minutes later I am tempted to call the police to file a report against this self entitled moron of the roads, but have a change of mind. Hopefully, this driver has one too and understands their role in respect to the non automobile driving person.

six parts to our rhyme and reason

quick steps,
sharp breaths,
pumping round a taut chest

run less,
we confess,
brings about our genetic best

still work,
not jerks,
utilizing brain's training perks

work smarter,
not harder,
brings us oh so much farther

we know,
as we go,
what we do is part free flow

still dream,
still think,
still write experiences with amazINK

Sunday's Saunter

Runners run for what they want. They chase after goals, times and finish lines. There is an intrinsic aspect of running that implies the opposite of moving slowly. Not to be convoluted, runners often run at different intensities and speeds, yes. However, even an easy pace for a runner is still faster than their walking pace.

Today, Sunday the seventh, our landlord did not accept the fact that we are moving out. I am already in Boston and was only back this weekend to pack up some suff. Jen moves out on the eleventh and we are paying for a half month instead of the full month. In our eyes, we figured that they could keep the security deposit, gain possesion of the apartment with five days of rent still paid and still get someone in the place before the first of September.

As my landlord called me "a son of a bitch" I casually turned my back and walked away. Paying for days we are not there, not arguing about a months rent in the form of a security deposit and taking the high road makes me feel better about the man I am continuing to be.

git er dun

Breathing is controlled, labored and billows strength behind timely steps placed in repetition. Forty minutes is the total cumulative time of the intervals. Starting with five minutes on one minute off and then after thirty minutes is reached there is a switch to repeats 1000's with one minute rest. Anearobic threshold running is tolerable, almost the whole time, but it certainly begins to add up. A reminder is admonished after twenty minutes is reached that accomplishing the workout is the goal, not the pace. Slowing from 5:20 mile pace to eventually 5:40 pace by about twenty five minutes into the total, and then for the last interval picking it back up and hitting 5:30 pace. Its not a stellar workout, but a forty minute total was done and at this point of the year you cannot ask for much more.

Runner's State of Mind (jay z holla!)

Running real freely
I will just be me
Out on the roads always wave when you see me
And I’ll holla back
with a peace sign
How I do this?
I do just fine
Now im goin on,
Across a field
Kids looking at me like im kinda weird
But I don’t mind the stares
I don’t really cares
Im a spectacle like at the fairs

A runner, you do this for yourself or personal health

Yes a runner, no one can touch you cause you don’t stand still

You're a runner

Now a verse for the haters
You are just takers
You yell at us but you're the wasters
Of your own time
and in your own mind
please remember these next lines
You got a license plate
And I wont hesitate
to do what I need with that number so be friendly mate
but its all good
in the neighborhood
“run forest run” is stupid, understood
Now one last thing
You should know
You're a runner today
if you Go

A runner, you do this for yourself or personal health

Yes a runner, no one can touch you cause you don’t stand still

You're a runner

“So you run?”

A simple often unneeded question because most times I just know. I have a sort of radar, a rundar, which allows me to pick up on other runners. Certain clothing, stickers on a car, a cheap wrist watch, well worn shoes tied tighter than “regular” people are all a dead give away. However, its not that, it is something intangible some sort of look in the eyes, smell or recognition that I am not consciously aware of yet which renders a conscious understanding; this person standing before me is a runner. Today the runner was named Peter, a client of Patriot’s having his stuff delivered out of storage. After he said yes, I sort of eyed him up and down and then pegged his marathon PR within five minutes. I knew he was impressed but my rundar was blipping extra clear today. Throughout the next 90 minutes, while we unpacked the truck, Peter and I bantered back and forth about running and as always there is that wonderful feeling of self recognition in someone that loves something that you too love. Leaving with an eighty dollar tip given to each of the movers, I knew he would of tipped something regardless of our conversation. However, eighty dollars is a large tip to give to one person for less than two hours of work and I couldn’t help but feel that the rundar might have helped.

cadence countdown

Finishing thirty seconds of striding along the paved road adjacent to Patriot Relocation’s 35,000 square foot warehouse the grass invites a glance, as a couch would to a tired man on his feet all day. Grunting men working with packages carefully carried from one place to another is done but the recoil of the extended labor is still present in each man. The fourth day in Boston, my third day in a row running from the place I work, my second day running the same route and my first day that I start to feel is in rhythm.

Pah Pah Pah Puker Face Pah Pah Puker Face

Doubled over, puking... again. This time leftover fish and chips dribbles out mouth, consumed four hours ago, there is nothing in my stomach. Surging from intestines, forced back into stomach, up esophagus and out my mouth there is, always when I puke from running, a profound sense of irony as some more bile with small, but recognizable, chunks lands on the ground. It wasn't a hard run, just an easy 20 minutes with a friend, still I ran until the tipping point. Some say runners are a different breed, and to some extent that is true. However, after talking to today's running friend, an accomplished college athlete, I find out he has not puked since he was 6 years old! I can eat almost any dish, tolerate a lot of pain, have mastered many physical/ mental skills, but the brain, with its give and take relationship to the body, must remember its' place because too often it can wander.

Callin Colin

Starting my first day of work at Patriot/ Paramount Transportation Systems is surreal. Monday, a new town, a new job and just yesterday I boarded a bus leaving my wife and dogs to stay in Maine for two weeks. A week ago I had no clue that today was going to be in Boston.

Last Tuesday I Facebook'd a friend and teammate of ours, Colin LaBrie. The next day, after talking with Colin on the phone, I had a job with a place to stay while Jen finishes work in Maine and I find us a long-term living situation. Colin is a straight-shooting no bs guy from South Boston with a heart of gold. He was a walk-on to Hofstra's XC team and by his Junior year he was #4. He is a hard working man, with a clear understanding of what he wants, who fought for a 4:38 mile and turned that talent into a 27:15 XC 8k. Now he is a business man, making money and providing jobs to a staff of about 40 people. As a friend he is honest and there for you, as a boss he is the same.

Colin really cares about this company. A few years ago, about to go under, Colin stepped in and shouldered a lot of the responsibility from his father's ailing business. The economy, a family loss that struck his father hard and Colin's great business sense were a pie chart of why his entrance into Paramount Transportation was a great opportunity. His father is a man well versed in the moving trade, is charismatic, dresses smart, is charming and when he asks you to do something you do it. Yet, he a man of many years does not have the nickname or reputation of "Mr. Meany" aka Mr. Colin LaBrie. He might tell you that you messed up, he might even bark it at you with a no nonsense "you cost us money" kind of attitude... but it is the truth. His stern corrections are never to be taken with a grain of salt, he always has a legitimate point, but it shouldn't be taken personally because it is not vindictive.

Also the truth, regardless of any aid, we would have made it to Boston, probably by the first of September, if not, definitely by the 1st of October. Also the truth, if Colin had called on us we would have done anything to help, that's what friends and teammates do. Still, we called on you Colin and you answered, you answered like f'ing Robin Williams to Aladdin. Yet, unlike the tale from the Arabian nights, crafted into a wonderful Disney movie, the roles are reversed. Thank you Mr. Labrie for helping to set us free.

Bangtown to Beantown

Its the last day of July and my last day in Maine is over. Leaving there for Boston doesn't mean forever, but besides a weekend trip to pack and get stuff, I am here for a while. No intention on staying here forever, but still it is a change. Starting in a new place, regardless of heritage there or having lived there many years ago is a reminder of the depth of the world. A phone call away, memories forever stored and still I miss you and the girls with all my heart.