Shamrock Shuffle 8k

My PR in the 8k was 33:55. I had hoped to run this race around 30min, but I did not expect to break it. My training has been going well over the last 4-5 months. I've gotten my mileage up to 50 miles/week, and my fitness has improved dramatically.

I showed up to the race with Sarah and Jason around 7:15am. We got there early to check our gear and do a warmup. I love this race because it has a big turnout and I get to catch up with people that I haven't seen in a long time.

Jason and I did a 1.5 mile warmup, some drills, some strides and got in corral A. I got as close to the front as possible, which ended up being very close for such a big race (30,000 finishers).

The horn sounded and I took off. The early pace was fast, but I felt comfortable. However, this comfort wouldn't last long. After only 4:00 minutes I started to feel the fatigue set in. I began to worry that the pace was too fast. This first mile came out to 6:07 and I thought "That mile hurt pretty badly, how am I gonna hang on for 4 more miles at this pace??"

The pace felt blistering, and I knew I should have slowed down. But I only eased off slightly. I tried to relax. It was so early in the race, but I could feel the tension building inside me. My stress level was high. In my head I repeated to myself "relax in the pack".  This actually seemed to help, and it eased the tension a bit. Mile 2 came out to 6:02 and this surprised me. I thought I had slowed down.

Mile 3 was more of the same... a constant inner-battle to convince myself that I was gonna be ok. Short races are so intense that the body red-lines and goes into "damage control mode". Alarm signals are firing to the brain telling your brain that it's in an emergency situation and serious damage will occur if you don't slow down.

This is where the mental aspect comes into play. Despite the fact that my body is SCREAMING at me to slow down, can I convince myself that I will be ok if I don't slow down?

With 3 miles down and 2 remaining, I knew that I could finish strong and that I was in the midst of a great race. The pain level was high, but I felt strong and confident. I slowly started to push the pace. There were many "sub-elites" and competitive teams at this race. For the first time in my life I was up there with them, even passing a few of them. It felt good.

Mile 4 came out to 6:00, I told myself "It's on!". I began the real push. And it was a good one. I don't know where it came from because I was hurting pretty badly for most of the race. But despite the searing pain, I kept digging harder. I know I've talked about it before, but that feeling of crushing the last mile is something very special.

Remembering my earlier splits of 6:07 and 6:10, I had given up on the idea of sub-30. I needed to go under 5:40 for the last mile, and I didn't think I could do that.

But as I turned the corner the finish line came into view with a quarter mile to go.  I was shocked to see that I still had a chance to break 30:00. I kicked with everything I had, and I was able to get in under 30.

After crossing the finish line I bent over the side railing to cough, pant, spit and catch my breath. I may have looked like hell, but I was thrilled.


Mile 1- 6:07
Mile 2- 6:02
Mile 3- 6:10
Mile 4- 6:00
0.97- 5:35

FINISH- 29:56 (6:02 pace)

Last year I ran this race in 35:00. I'm happy and excited with where my fitness is at right now. The overtraining issues are a distant memory.

The Shamrock Shuffle signifies the start of racing season in Chicago. And I suspect that 2014 will be a big year.

Tel Aviv Half Marathon

My excitement leading into this trip was off the charts. It turned out to be everything I could have hoped for. I had quality bonding time with friends and family. I got to explore my beloved homeland. And I ran the best race of my life. The trip could not have been more perfect. 

After spending my first 3 days enjoying Tel Aviv and Ra'anana, it was time to race. I stayed overnight at my friend Shanna's place. We woke up early and rode bikes to the race. When we arrived at the race I couldn't stop smiling. It was just like every other large race I've attended. Except this time I was surrounded by thousands of my people. 

Listening to the announcer speak in Hebrew was a constant reminder that this was special. I've run many races, but this was my first race overseas. It was fascinating to see the sport of running transcend cultures. 

I had two goals for this race. One goal was reasonable. It was a "safe bet". That goal was to set a new PR (1:33). 

The other goal was a big stretch. I felt like my chances were very slim. But I wanted to break 1:30. 

The horn sounded and off we went. I settled into a pace where I was 10 feet ahead of the 1:30 pace team. I felt comfortable ahead of them but it was still too fast. So after 1 mile I slowed down and I tucked into the back of the 1:30 pace group. There were 15 people running with the 1:30 pack, and the pack leader was carrying a bright red balloon.

We were holding 6:50 pace, but it felt fast and at mile 3 I was already a bit tired. I slowed down slightly and the pace group gradually distanced themselves from me. It was frustrating to see my goal time of 1:30 slip away.  The gap widened between the balloon and me. But I tried hard to keep it in my sights. 

At mile 4 I got a nice 2nd wind. There was a downhill just as we approached the Mediterranean ocean. The view was one I had seen 100 times. But the familiar setting seemed special this time. I was transfixed on the beach and the ocean. The calm waves eased my discomfort of running. I could feel the salty sea air on my skin. 

I tried to hang on to a 6:50-6:55 pace, but the red balloon kept getting further away. It was so small at one point, maybe a half mile ahead of me. I could barely see the balloon and reaching it seemed completely unattainable. 

Meanwhile I just tried to hang on and enjoy the course. It was a thrill to be running through the streets of Tel Aviv. Despite the significant discomfort I was feeling I tried to appreciate the surroundings. Hearing people cheer in Hebrew never got old.

By mile 8 the discomfort was intense. But I knew I had enough gas in the tank for a strong finish. I started to very gradually pick up the pace. I moved from 6:55 to 6:50 pace. Still keeping my eye on the balloon in the distance. 

The balloon represented sub 1:30, but it was still so far away that I didn't think I could catch it. I told myself in consolation, "at least I'll hit my back up goal and get that PR".

At mile 10 I was ready to make a real move. I stepped on the gas and I was surprised that I had an extra gear so late in the race. Mile 11 came out to 6:40. The fatigue was intense. And I was hurting badly. But with only 2 miles remaining, I was ready to face anything thrown at me. 

More importantly, catching the red balloon suddenly became realistic. 

At mile 12 I surged hard. I just kept closing the gap with the balloon. The pain was bad, but the thrill of a strong finish silenced that pain. Mile 12 came out to 6:24 and the balloon was now within striking distance. Maybe 50 meters away. 

With 1 mile to go I was ready to give it everything I had left. My legs and lungs were screaming, but that red balloon was the only thing that mattered. I was intently focused on it, and I noticed little else. 

With a quarter mile to go I finally reached the man holding the balloon. Between gasps I said in Hebrew "I caught you!" Not very clever, but my brain was experiencing serious oxygen debt. 

I knew 1:30 was in the bag and I kicked with everything I had for the last quarter mile. I crossed the finish line and was thrilled when my watched showed 1:28:24. 

I bent over and clutched my knees, the "runner's prayer" pose. But before I could catch my breath, I heard someone calling my name. It was my Uncle Barry and cousin Yael from behind the fence. I walked to the fence and spoke with them while trying to hide my exhaustion.

Afterward we walked around the post-race area for a while. It was great to reconnect with friends and family who came out to support me. 

Mile 1- 6:53

Mile 2- 6:49

Mile 3- 6:47

Mile 4- 6:44

Mile 5- 6:58

Mile 6- 6:54

Mile 7- 6:32 

Mile 8- 6:44

Mile 9- 6:48

Mile 10- 6:51

Mile 11- 6:40

Mile 12- 6:23

Mile 13- 6:08

0.1- 1:09

FINISH- 1:28:24 (6:44 pace)

This wasn't like some of my past races where I held back early so I could finish fast. This time I came out with guns blazing. There were moments during the early and middle miles that I was unsure if I could hang on. 

I've been battling an absolutely brutal winter- running outside every day despite extreme cold, snow and wind. I've had doubt and uncertainty about my training and about how much I was improving. This race felt like the payoff for countless hours spent combating the elements before the sun came up. 

I am so grateful for the support and encouragement of all those around me. I couldn't do this otherwise. I'm happy with the result of this race, but I will continue to work hard. Hopefully this is just the beginning.