2019 New York City Marathon

When I registered for this race it wasn't a huge goal of mine. At the time, I was focused on Boston and the 5th Ave Mile. But as NYCM approached, I had a huge breakthrough in training. I ran 4:41 for the mile, 1:18 for the half, and I was nailing my workouts.

I went all-in on the training and pushed myself harder than I ever had before. My mileage reached previously unseen levels and I was fully consumed by running. I ran in the morning, went to work, and ran in the evening. Day in, Day out. The grind was nonstop.

A goal came into focus about 3-4 weeks before the race. I wanted to break 2:50. It was ambitious and would mean a huge leap from my current PR (2:58). It excited me because it was a number that was once unfathomable.

Race week rolled around, and I was ready to rock. But the anticipation grew to very high levels and it was a challenge to deal with. I love marathon week/weekend in New York, but there's just so much going on. All the events, speakers, shakeouts, parties... they're great, but they cause a huge build up of hype. It got to a point where the marathon occupied 99% of my thoughts. By race day I was very ready to race and relieve the mounting pressure. My buddy Dan stayed with me for the weekend. He did a phenomenal job of helping me stay composed and confident.

On race morning I connected with fellow Upper West Siders, Kim and Ulla. At the Midtown bus we randomly ran into Jorge! The commute to the start line felt like it took forever. But once I arrived at Fort Wadsworth it was all good. I saw all the usual suspects in the Local Competitive corral. We shared some laughs, and tried to ease the tension in the final minutes before the gun went off.

The race started and I committed to not charging up the Verrazano Bridge, and not storming down it either. Once we were off the bridge I tried to settle into a rhythm. My stomach felt a little tight in the first couple miles. This has happened to me in other marathons and it can often last for most of the race. But this time my stomach eased up at mile 3 or 4. It had never relaxed this early in the race, and I took that as a good sign.

The race plan was to stick to 6:25 pace for the first 15-16 miles. But I did not do a very good job. Most of the miles in the first half were closer to 6:15 pace. I was just feeling so great and I saw so many friends along the way. The Brooklyn Track Club cheer station at mile 8 was EPIC!! Drew handed me a bottle of Maurten just as I saw the squad. I started jumping up and down and I spilled the bottle all over myself. I was now a sticky mess, but I didn't care. I was ripping!

I hit the half in 1:23:56 as I made my way up the Pulaski Bridge. Still feeling great. It was at this point where I started to feel confident that things were going to end well.

I had started running the race with a lot of friends and training partners from Local Competitive. But by the half most of them had dropped back. Except Ruoxi. He was still around and he was still feeling good. We were now in this together.

As we approached the Queensboro Bridge I took the same approach as the Verrazano. I eased my way up the bridge by backing off the pace and going by effort. And I allowed everyone else to bomb down it. But once we got onto 1st Avenue, things got LIT AF!!! The energy on 1st Ave was amazing. I saw everyone and I was feeling great. The roar of the crowd was deafening. Every 30 seconds I was hearing my name from friends. I was plowing down 1st Ave at 6:08 pace with a huge smile on my face. This was undoubtedly one of the best moments of my running career. I was en route to a massive PR, in the best city in the world, surrounded by the best people in the world.

I entered the Bronx around mile 20 and now I was starting to work. I still felt great, but this was the first time I really noticed an elevated effort level. But I kept charging on, and waving to the people I recognized. I was soaking in the moment.



But at mile 21/22 something scary happened. I developed a severe stomach cramp. My right abdominal muscle locked up. My legs still felt great, but my stomach was experiencing intense pain. I spent the next 3 miles working through it. I took deep breaths, pressed firmly on it, and chugged as much Gatorade as possible. But it was scary, I felt like the cramp was gonna shut me down, and all that work I'd done in the previous 20 miles would be wiped out. I was panicking. Ruoxi passed me and all I could say was, "I'm in rough shape". He provided some encouragement.

At mile 23 I started the climb up 5th Avenue. This is undoubtedly the most dreadful part of the race. It's not a steep ascent, but the climb lasts for over a mile and it's 23 miles into the race!! Somehow, miraculously, the stomach cramp went away! I was thrilled. I couldn't believe it!

I charged up 5th Ave as best I could, and when I entered the park I felt incredible! I was working hard, but I had a level of strength and energy that I'd never felt at mile 24. I was full of first pumps, and smiles, and waves to everyone. It was a celebration, I knew I had it.



I burst through the park with my head in the clouds. I couldn't believe this was happening. All the work, the endless miles, the non-stop grinding... this was where it paid off. Here I was at mile 25, doing 6:15 pace!

I briefly exited the park to continue along 59th street. When I got back into the park I had 800m to go and I dropped down to 5:45 pace. And with 400m to go I turned it into an all out sprint! I crossed the finish line, threw my fists in the air, and shed a few tears. 2:48:55

A minute later Ruoxi crossed the finish line and we had a nice moment. I'm so grateful to have had him by my side throughout the race, and it helped immensely. I later connected with Perry and Young, and stumbled home to my apartment, exhausted and thrilled.



I'm still processing the significance of this one. I'm a bit in shock. I spent a very long time struggling with my running, and a very long time dreaming about reaching this level. I always knew I could get here. I always believed that I had the ability. I just needed to be patient and continue putting in the work.

The work. That's what this cycle was all about. It was my motto for months as I pushed myself to the extreme... "do the work". And the results will follow.

I have so many people to thank for this one. I've never been so moved by the support of a crowd. Seeing familiar faces on the course fueled me with fire. I was floating. Thank you to all my friends and teammates who came out to cheer and support. I can't tell you how much it means to me.

To my Moonshot and BKTC people. Training alongside you this year is the biggest reasons for this breakthrough. This result was a team effort. This wasn't just my win, it was OUR win. It's a directly reflection of our leadership's effectiveness, and a testament to what can be accomplished through a unified team. I'm so excited about what's to come in 2020.

2019 Boston Marathon

My build-up for Boston 2019 was exceptional. I worked harder for this race than I ever had. I was healthy, running 70-80 miles/week, and nailing all my workouts. I was training my ass off and it was exhausting. But in an odd way, it was an exhaustion that gave me energy. It gave me purpose and a single-minded focus towards a clear objective. It was an exhaustion that I craved.



After last year’s freezing nightmare, there was intense speculation about this year’s weather. And unsurprisingly, there were wild swings in the forecast. Race day ended up being around 60 degrees at the start and almost 70 at the finish.

On the bus ride to Hopkinton the skies opened and a torrential downpour ensued. I said to Perry, “This feels a lot like last year, except 30 degrees warmer.”

By the time we arrived in Athlete’s Village most of the rain had stopped. Everything was far more calm and orderly compared to last year’s pre-race chaos. As we waited to start, I was acutely aware of the warmer temps, and I knew they would be a factor.

Lining up in the corral was once again surreal. I spent 10 years desperately wanting to be a part of this race. Failing over and over to the point of near hopelessness. I experienced so much sadness in the pursuit. On race morning, the privilege of being at the start line was not lost on me. 

The gun went off and despite the congested field, people were storming down the hill, but I did my best to keep things controlled. I tried to stay relaxed and find a comfortable rhythm during the steady downhill of the first 5k. At mile 4 the higher than normal temps were already alarming. 

Based on my training, I felt capable of running a marathon at 6:35 pace (2:52). But by mile 5 I knew it wasn’t gonna happen. I forced myself to adjust and tried to set a speed limit at 6:45 pace (2:57). As early as mile 5 I had given up on my original goal. Even though I was feeling great now, I knew the heat would catch up to me if I didn’t back off. 

Between miles 5-15 I mostly cruised and steadily held onto 6:45 pace. I was feeling good and appreciating the crowds (which didn't exist last year). However, the impending effects of the heat loomed ahead. I knew that the fight was coming. I hit the half in 1:28:10 and thought maybe I could hang on for 2:55 with a strong finish

I approached the Newton Hills at mile 16 and this is where the wheels started to get wobbly. A cramp was already building in my left calf and the cramping got worse with every step once the hills arrived. The heat was also dialing up. My effort level increased while my pace and energy started to fade. The fight was on, and it was early to start fighting. 

I worked my way over the big rolling hills of Newtown, but as I climbed my pace slipped to 7:15. After each climb I wanted to run hard on the downhill, but the cramping was so bad that the downhills were jarring and painful. Each pounding step sent shock waves through my aching legs. 

At mile 17 I reminded myself that I only had a couple miles before seeing a huge group of Brooklyn Track Club friends at mile 19. Knowing that they awaited got me through a very difficult stage of the race. When I reached them I got amped up and tried to disguise how much pain I was in. 

Photo cred: John Conner

I battled the hills between 16-21 as best I could. But they a took a big toll on me. During the months leading up to Boston I did a lot of visualization. I had dreams of getting to the top of Heartbreak Hill with a ton of energy, and flying through the final 5 miles. But the reality was quite different. 

When I crested Heartbreak Hill I was in rough shape.  The hills chewed me up and spit me out. But unlike last year, I still had something left in me. I accepted the fact that I wasn’t going to crush the finish the way I had envisioned. But I was ready to fight back with whatever I could muster. 

By mile 22 I was reeling in pain and desperate to be done. The clouds disappeared and the sun beat down on me. The cramping seared through my legs as they started to lock up. But this was the point where all the hard work paid off- the 80 mile weeks, the track sessions, the early morning wake ups. The never-ending grind that is needed to fortify the body and mind against everything the marathon will throw at you.

At mile 24 the Citgo sign was a welcomed sight. I also spotted my friend Drew up ahead. I could barely hang onto a 6:50 pace and I didn’t have the strength to quickly catch up to him. But I had enough drive to keep him close. Drew looked back to see me and yelled “C’mon Matan!”. This inspired me to push a little harder and at mile 25 I linked up with him. 

We were now working together in the final mile. Drew’s energy kept me going as my legs stiffened and my body rebelled against the demands I was putting on it. Without Drew at my side I surely would have relented to the pain and fallen off the pace.

At mile 25.5 I passed the Dashing Whippets cheer station. I did my best to acknowledge their cheers, but I was barely able to turn my head to look at them. No longer could I mask my discomfort and I gave up on any attempt to suppress a grimace. 

As we came out from the underpass the right on Hereford came into sight. This was a huge relief. I somehow found another gear by knowing the finish was around the corner. 

I turned onto Boylston and the finish line loomed in the distance. The left onto Boylston felt surreal, like I was experiencing something out of a movie. This is such an iconic scene in the sport of running, how could I be so fortunate to experience it?

I looked at my watch and it read 2:55:xx. I knew that I would be close to my PR from Berlin (2:58:22). 

At this point in last year’s race I could do nothing more than shuffle down Boylston. Last year the race broke me at mile 21 and I had nothing left. Last year Boston got the best of me, but this year was different.

 
2018

2019

This year I took some bad blows, but I never went down. I fought until the end and when I turned onto Boylston it was time to deliver the knockout punch. I sprinted with everything I had left. This was it. This was the moment I had dreamed about. The crowd was probably deafening, but I barely noticed. I was in extreme pain but so elated by having the strength to sprint. I crossed the finish line and stopped my watch to see an 11 second PR. 2:58:11 I’d take it! 

I turned around to see Karlo and we shared an emotional moment. We then connected with Drew and I told him how much he helped me. Both of these men had raced their hearts out. 

I took off my shoes and shuffled back to my Airbnb at a snail’s pace. Along the way, every stranger that walked by gave their congratulations. No city takes as much pride in their race as Boston. 

As the day passed I rejoined more friends and teammates to celebrate. I loved hearing their stories and witnessing their excitement. I feel deeply fortunate to be part of this community.

What I poured into this race went above and beyond anything I’ve ever done. I know I could have ran a faster race under better conditions, but Boston isn’t where you go to run a fast time. Boston is where you go to test your spirit. From freezing rain to boiling temps, Boston is utterly unpredictable. The only guarantee is that it’s going to be a fight. And I can’t wait for round 3 next year. 

2018 Barcelona Half Marathon

In mid-November I started experiencing a sharp tightness in my hamstring while running. By Thanksgiving the pain was so intense that anything faster than 8:30 pace caused my leg to seize up. The next 3 months were frustrating. Instead of building my fitness in preparation for a spring race, I was in recovery mode and desperate to get healthy. I took 2 weeks off from running yet I was still in pain. I lowered my mileage to 20-30 miles/week and never ran faster than 8:30 pace, but even that didn't help. As the race approached, I gave up on running a fast time in Barcelona because I felt as though I had lost so much fitness. But even worse... I was freaking out that I would have to skip Boston. 

In February I started a new PT program, and to my surprise, I suddenly started to feel relief from the hamstring pain. But even though I was healing, I did not have time to do any real training. When the day of the race arrived, I had a huge question mark around my fitness and I lacked confidence. 

My previous PR was 1:25:30, but I was certain that I would not improve upon that in Barcelona. In fact, I wouldn’t even try to PR. My plan was to use the Barcelona race as a workout where I ran the first 10 miles at 7:00-7:10 pace and maybe a bit faster for the last 3 miles. 

But when the gun went off, I was shocked by how good I felt. I cruised through the first 2 miles at 6:40 pace and it felt effortless. I thought to myself “You’re just hyped up from the excitement and adrenaline or the race. If you don’t slow down, the lack of fitness is going to catch up to you.”

I tried forcing myself to slow down. It was the reasonable thing to do, but my body resisted. It would not slow down and insisted on continuing at the same pace. The energy in my legs silenced my nervous mind and reassured me that I can remain comfortable at this speed. 

I hit the 5k mark around 20:30. I was relaxed and floating along. I hovered around the 6:35 range for miles 3-8. This was not what I had planned for, and I had strayed from my objective of a workout at 7:00 pace. But I was allowing effort to dictate my speed. 

At mile 8 I was in complete shock. I had averaged 6:35 pace and I felt like I was barely working. "Where had this come from?!?" I knew that I had a killer finish left in me. I also knew that if I could pull off a big negative split, I had a chance at a new PR. My hamstring felt great, my energy was high, and my confidence had returned. I was all systems go. 

I pushed down to 6:30 pace for mile 9, and even that didn’t require much effort. I decided to roll the dice and I surged hard at the 10 mile mark. I felt like I was flying. I had a huge grin on my face and I was passing swarms of runners. Mile 11 came in at 6:10 and I knew the PR was mine. 

I live for moments like these. When the pace gets hot and yet I have a true belief in myself to withstand the storm of pain that is inevitably coming my way. But my outlook while running is so different from how I see the world in everyday life. In my life outside of running I am filled with self-doubt. I constantly question my competence, my intelligence, and my value. My sense of self-worth is under relentless attack by my own insecurities. But while I'm running I feel like a different person. In the late stages of a race the doubt fades and I experience a distinct "certainty". I am certain that I have the strength to come out victorious in this battle against fatigue. In these moments there is an undeniable fortitude and fearlessness where no amount of insecurity can weaken my resolve. I’ve never experienced anything more empowering than that certainty, and it’s perhaps the main reason why I run. 

Mile 12 clocked in at 6:07 and with 1 mile remaining I was ready to go! I pushed with everything that I had, and somehow found another gear. I was still bewildered by where this performance was coming from. And while the pain was burning red hot in my legs and lungs, the thrill of this victory drove me forward. Mile 13 clicked off at 5:47, and I sprinted to the finish line. I even managed a weary smile as I crossed. 

In the finishing chute, all I could do was stand there in disbelief. This result was so different than what I had expected, and I was so excited to discover that I am well-positioned to run a good race at Boston. Over the next few weeks I will continue to remain cautious with my health as I start to incorporate more speed work. I can only hope that I finish Boston the way I finished Barcelona.

After the race I met up with Nao and Perry who ran stellar races of their own. I am so grateful for the time we spent together and the incredible adventures that Barcelona had to offer.

2017 Last Chance Marathon

I'll spare you the details, but believe me when I say that I've experienced my fair share of hardships and setbacks in this sport. Between health issues, crippling fatigue, injuries, and bad races- I've been heartbroken over and over again. The latest devastating experience came in Tokyo 7 months ago. As I lined up to start the Tokyo Marathon, I thought I had finally reached a point where my setbacks were behind me. I did a ton of work for that race, and had soaring expectations. I was fully convinced that my moment to qualify for Boston had finally arrived. And at mile 18 in Tokyo, my hopes came crashing down. I hit the wall and walked to the finish line in anguish and defeat.

I felt shattered. The same way I had felt over and over again for the past 11 years. After every gut-wrenching defeat, I battled with the question "maybe this isn't something I am capable of".  After Tokyo I came very close to losing faith in accomplishing this goal. I felt crushed by the weight of this doubt. The possibility of never qualifying for Boston was agonizing.

It took a long time to recover from Tokyo, both physically and emotionally. I was in a bad place after that race. I felt hopeless and filled with self-doubt. Picking myself up and putting myself back together took so much work. It was especially difficult because I knew that if I tried to qualify again, I would likely fail. How could I put myself through this again? How could I resume training after 11 years of continual heartbreak? In getting back on the proverbial horse, I told myself, "I don't care how many times I fail, I will keep trying until the day I die".

Slowly but surely, I got back into training. But this training cycle was unlike anything I've ever done. I began working with Jeremy Shingleton who graciously took me under his wing.  Jeremy is an accomplished runner with a deep knowledge about the sport. My conversations with Jeremy began as a simple exchange of ideas about training principals and theories. Over time, the relationship developed into an exceptionally close coach/athlete relationship. Jeremy crafted a plan of attack to get me to Boston. His plan went so far above and beyond mileage. We covered pacing, weight-loss, recovery, nutrition, fueling, shoes, hills, stretching, rolling, strength training, drills, strides etc. We spoke daily and addressed everything at a detailed level.

Here is a graph of my mileage build-up from 5/1/17 until the race on 9/9/17. This exemplifies the meticulous planning that went into this training cycle. Every run was contemplated and discussed. Every week of the training cycle was planned with meaning and careful thoughtfulness. It was methodical, calculated, disciplined and scientific.

I put a great deal of emphasis on nutrition and weight loss. I weighed 160 lbs at the time of the Tokyo marathon. But by shedding some weight, it would require less energy cover 26.2 miles. I made some dramatic changes to my diet to lose 15 pounds and get my body fat down to 7.5%

Over the next 5 months I completely poured myself into the training. I've never been so disciplined in executing a training plan. I was regularly waking up at 4:30am, pushing through fatigue and exhaustion, and doing whatever it took to get my workouts done. I averaged 60 miles/week and peaked at 75 miles. This type of mileage was completely uncharted territory for me. As a result, I saw my fitness soar to levels that I've never reached. My workouts started coming easily. I was regularly doing workouts at 6:30-6:40 pace and felt completely comfortable there. By the time the race came around, it was clear that I was in the best shape of my life.

The race was in Geneva, IL about 1 hour outside of Chicago. The course is a 3.25 mile loop that is run 8 times. My family was kind enough to come out and support me, and the loop course was perfect for people cheering. I was excited to know that I would see them 8 times during the race. With a start of 6:30am, I woke up at 3:00am to start fueling and preparing. But it didn't really matter since I barely slept.

It was a small race, about 300 runners. The race is completely focused on getting runners to Boston, so it offered pace groups below the qualifying standard. My qualifying standard is 3:10, but I needed to be at least 3 minutes under the standard in order to have a good chance of going to Boston. I lined up with the 3:06 pace group which was pretty close to the start line.

The gun went off and the race started! Within the first few steps I immediately started feeling a pain in my stomach. It was a tightness in my belly that made me feel uncomfortable. I couldn't find a good rhythm and I tried to breathe through the stomach tightness. But it just wasn't going away. I then started burping and heaving up this acidic bile. The stuff was brown and gross. The situation was bad. For the next 8 miles I dealt with this. I felt fatigued and low on energy. I maintained a steady 7:00-7:05 pace but I was working too hard. The pace group pulled ahead of me, and I just hung off the back of the group (there were about 15 people in this pack). During these first 8 miles, I was certain that I wouldn't be able to finish the race. My outlook was not good. I kept thinking to myself, "Here you are again… about to drop out of another marathon, about to face another devastation." My family cheered for me when I saw them and I just tried to smile and pretend like everything was fine.

But around mile 10 something changed. My stomach finally loosened up which allowed my energy levels to return to normal. By mile 13 I felt better than I had all race! The pace was comfortable, and I was relaxed. I was feeling so great at this point and I continued at 7:00-7:05 pace. I pulled ahead of the pace group which still stayed tightly packed with around 10 guys.

I noticed another guy who maintained a steady pace and he also pulled ahead of the pace group. We naturally linked up and ran side-by-side as we stayed ahead of the group. After recognizing that we were working together, we started talking a bit. His name was John, and he was also trying to make his first appearance at Boston. John and I would end up working together for the next 10 miles. It was great running with him. Having him at my side was absolutely critical to my race.

Between mile 13-16 I started to feel a bit of fatigue, but it really wasn't terrible. When I saw my family during this loop I was much more excited. By the time I got to mile 16 I recalled what my coach told me to do at this point. "Once you're at 16, just focus on getting to 20." I was still feeling relatively energetic and surprised by how little fatigue I was experiencing. Some muscle soreness was starting to build in my left leg.

By the time I reached mile 17, I acknowledged that I was experiencing something I had never felt before… I actually felt good at mile 17 of a marathon! I had run 4 marathons prior to this, and in every one of them, I started fading at mile 17. But for the first time, I felt great! Now don't get me wrong, I was still working very hard. Fatigue had set in, my breathing was labored, and my muscles ached… but I knew I had enough energy to hold on for 10 more miles. For the first time all race, I started to believe that today was my day.

After 2-3 loops I developed and a familiarity and comfort with the course. This helped put me at ease as the fatigue grew stronger. Plus seeing my family so many times gave me a massive boost. At mile 19 I passed my family and this time I showed more enthusiasm. I said to them, "we're gonna do this!" and they went nuts!!

When I reached mile 20, I continued to be in shock of how much energy I had. Muscle soreness in my quads kept building and I had to start working harder to maintain pace. But at this point, I felt confident that I was going to Boston. I recalled another thing my coach told me, "At mile 20, pause to reflect on what you've accomplished. Appreciate the moment." Something I had dreamed about for so long was about to happen. I truly couldn't believe it. Thousands upon thousands of miles were leading up to this point.

Being so close to the finish really carried me, but I had 6 miles to go and was still concerned about blowing up. At this point I knew that the only thing getting in my way was doing something stupid, so I wanted to be cautious of not pushing too hard.

Fatigue was setting in deeply at this point. My quads were on fire and cramping up big time, and my stomach locked up again. I got a bad stomach cramp that would not go away. But it didn't matter how badly I was hurting, I could taste the finish line. At mile 22 I saw my family again, and they went crazier than ever before! They knew that I was going to do it. As I passed by them I yelled, "See you at the finish line!"

Because I had slowed a bit from miles 18-22, the 3:06 pace group had now caught up to me. However, the entire group of guys had fallen back. The only person left in the 3:06 pace group was the pacer. As he passed me, the pacer said, "you need to keep me in your sights!" I picked up the pace, and just tried to prevent him from getting away from me.

I now had 1 lap left… 3.25 miles to go. The pain was intense at this point, but it didn't matter. I just had to hang on for a little longer and I was going to Boston. At mile 24 I noticed that John was starting to fade a bit. Before I knew it, he had dropped back. I didn't say anything, I just gave him a small wave and kept pushing forward. I was so grateful to have him by my side throughout such a crucial portion of the race.

With 1.5 miles remaining, the pacer turned around and saw that I was the last man left in the 3:06 pace group. He slowed down for me to catch up and I said to him, "get me to the finish". I was exhausted but I knew that I had it won. The intense discomfort was drowned out by the excitement I felt. With 1 mile remaining I started to press pretty hard. My pace dipped below 7:00 and I remember thinking, "just don't trip and fall on your face!". My legs were seizing up with cramps, and my quads felt a searing, deep fatigue. But none of that mattered, I had less than 1 mile to go!

During that final mile I was being pushed by the pacer. He ran alongside me and he encouraged me to keep pressing. We got to speaking a bit and he told me his name was Chris. I told him that I had been trying to qualify for 11 years, and I had been dreaming of this moment. He said he was honored to share it with me.

With a quarter mile to go, the finish line came into sight. A decade of miles, sweat, and tears came down to this moment.  There was a big crowd and they went wild. I ran as hard as I could and started sprinting!! As I approached the finish line I let out a massive scream! In the blink of an eye, 11 years of pain and frustration had turned into victory and happiness. The level of elation and joy was off the charts. I was in shock. It felt surreal. Surely I must be dreaming. Immediately after crossing the line I was embraced by my family. We were hugging, and crying, and jumping around. This was one of the best moments of my life.

Mile 1- 7:08

Mile 2- 6:59

Mile 3- 7:01

Mile 4- 7:01

Mile 5- 6:56

Mile 6- 7:07

Mile 7- 6:59

Mile 8- 7:05

Mile 9- 7:07

Mile 10- 6:59

Mile 11- 7:08

Mile 12- 7:01

Mile 13- 6:57

Mile 14- 7:11

Mile 15- 7:03

Mile 16- 7:14

Mile 17- 7:02

Mile 18- 7:13

Mile 19- 7:11

Mile 20- 7:14

Mile 21- 7:15

Mile 22- 7:06

Mile 23- 7:03

Mile 24- 7:04

Mile 25- 6:54

Mile 26- 6:57

0.2- 1:51 (5:54 pace)

FINISH- 3:05:49 (7:05 pace), 31 minute PR

Acknowledgements:

My friends: For as long as I've been a runner they've had to deal with my obsession for the sport. I know it's not easy. Thank you for putting up with me when I'm being lame and need to go to bed early. Thank you for tolerating my endless chatter about running and pretending to be interested in it. I understand that I'm not normal. 

My Teammates: I've said over and over that joining the Whippets was the best decision I've made since moving to New York. Moving to a new city without knowing many people was daunting. But I found myself embraced and welcomed by this remarkable group of people. I feel so fortunate for the strong bonds and deep relationships that I've developed on this team. There's no question that this BQ is a direct result of joining the Whippets. The support and camaraderie is invaluable, and I'm so inspired by the many talented and passionate runners in the group. I am filled with pride every time I throw on a Whippet singlet, and it is an absolute privilege to call you guys my teammates.

My Coach: Jeremy- I don't know what I did to deserve the type of involvement you provided me. The amount of time, energy, and thoughtfulness you put into this was one of the most meaningful gestures I've ever received. You recognized how upset I was after Tokyo, and took it upon yourself to lift me up and guide me on this journey. Your mentorship enabled me to reach levels that I had only dreamed about. I've always had tremendous respect and admiration for the passion and dedication that you exemplify through your training. Having you as a coach is a true honor.

My Family: Having you guys at the race was absolutely epic! Your cheering was insane, and knowing that you were just around the corner every few miles totally got me through the race. Thank you for your endless support, the hilarious signs, and always believing in me. Our celebration on the finish line is a memory that I will re-live and cherish forever.

It's now been a full week since the race, and I'm still trying to process what happened. I honestly don't know where to go from here. For as long as I've been a runner, qualifying for Boston has been a single and intense focus of mine. There are still more goals that I would like to accomplish, but I have a huge sense of relief right now.

I hope this experience serves as proof that you should never give up on your dreams. No matter how many times I was knocked down, no matter how hopeless I felt, I always kept moving forward. I would encourage you to hold onto your dreams even if they seem like a mere fantasy. If you want it badly enough, you will make it happen.

2017 United NYC Half Marathon

Going into this race, I tried not to have any expectations. Being only 3 weeks removed from the Tokyo Marathon, I was not in optimal condition to race. In fact, I was in poor condition. My recovery from the Tokyo Marathon has not gone well. My legs have been tired and I am low on energy. But what's more troubling is that my head hasn't been in a good place either. Tokyo dealt me a bad blow, and I'm still dealing with the disappointment that I experienced on that day. Since that race, I've been lacking enthusiasm and I feel overwhelmed by the thought of enduring another marathon training cycle. While I tried not to have any expectations for yesterday's race, I was hoping for a good performance to help restore my motivation and excitement for training.

On Friday after the expo, I bumped into Meb on the 1 Train. We rode together and talked about recovering from a disappointing race. He gave me some meaningful and inspiring advice, and he encouraged me to keep moving forward. Meb is an invaluable gift to the running world, and it was an honor to spend this time with him.

My race plan was to start out at a very comfortable effort for the first half of the race, and see if I could gradually get faster in the 2nd half for a strong finish. At 6:00am I met up with my teammate, Steve, and we walked to the start line. Despite plenty of pre-race speculation, the weather ended up being manageable. It was 33 degrees with winds that would be at our back for most of the race.

The gun went off and it was very congested, but I was fine with that since I wanted a conservative start. The start of the race loops through Central Park, and while it was nice being in familiar territory, the hills made for a challenging and uneven effort. I moved through the first 4 miles at 6:50-7:00 pace. That pace that should have felt easy since it's close to my marathon pace. But the lack of recovery from Tokyo was noticeable here. 6:50 pace required far more effort than I would have liked. By mile 5 I started having flashbacks to Tokyo and I developed anxiety about crashing. I became very worried that I wouldn't be able to hold this pace and I might fall apart. I just tried to relax, focus on my breathing, and have faith in my abilities.

Around mile 6 we exited the park. At this point I got a nice boost of energy and I was ready to start pressing. I quickened the pace and was feeling decent. I wasn't feeling amazing or anything, but definitely more energetic than before. This part of the race runs south down 7th Avenue. It was pretty neat running through Times Square. At this point I was all smiles and waiving to the spectators that I recognized.

When we turned West on 42nd Street I was blasted in the face with a strong headwind. I tried to draft behind some bigger runners, but it didn't help. Fortunately this stretch only lasted for a half mile. Once I got onto the West Side Highway I was cruising. I passed the 8 mile marker and dipped below 6:30 pace. I was passing a lot of people and feeling strong. This was the old me, this is what I love about racing. I started to remember how good it felt to close strong and push through fatigue. It had been so long since I've felt this way.

By mile 9 and 10 I could still tell that the recovery from Tokyo was holding me back. On fresh legs I'd be absolutely hammering these miles, but under the circumstances, all I could do was try to hold onto the faster pace of 6:25-6:30. I was still a little nervous about crashing, but by mile 11 I knew that I'd survive.

I latched onto a guy from New York Harriers, and we worked together over mile 11 and 12. This was a big help and enabled me to deal with the intense fatigue.

With one mile remaining I was ready to rock. I surged hard! I was flying by people and pouring everything I had into the finish. I passed my friend Jeremy who jokingly yelled something derogatory at me. It made me push even harder! I kicked to the finish with everything I had, and despite the searing pain, I loved every second of it. I ran the last mile in 5:35.

As always, it was a pleasure seeing my teammates both on and off the course. They pushed me to run harder and it was great catching up with everyone at the post-race brunch.

Overall, this race was a positive experience that I desperately needed. The Tokyo marathon was only 3 weeks ago, and I'm certainly not recovered from it. In yesterday's half marathon my body had no "pop" and it noticeably held me back. On fresh legs I know that I'm capable of so much more than 1:26. That said, this race was encouraging because it reminded that I'm still capable of running strong. It helped spark some of the enthusiasm that Tokyo snuffed out. I'm looking forward to reaching a point where I'm 100% recovered so that I can resume working towards my goals. 

2017 Tokyo Marathon

My goal for this race was to qualify for the Boston Marathon by running a few minutes under 3:10. Based on my recent racing and training, I thought this was a very realistic goal. In fact, I couldn't have asked for a better training season. My coach, Neely Spence Gracey, put together a carefully thought out plan for me, and the results were outstanding. I stayed 100% healthy throughout the cycle. I was stronger and faster than I've ever been in my life. I felt very confident going into this race. 

Race day conditions were perfect. It was 45 degrees at the start with hardly any wind. While waiting in the start corral I was brimming with excitement and eager to start the race. The gun went off and we were showered with a massive spray of white confetti. 

I had a huge smile on my face for the first mile. I was thrilled that the moment I spent so much time preparing for had finally arrived. The crowds were unreal. At least 4 people deep from start to finish. And not only had I never seen this many people lined on the course, they were going nuts! The enthusiasm they showed filled me with energy. 

I was completely relaxed and comfortable through the first 10 miles. I was moving along at a 7:00-7:05 pace and felt amazing! I was sticking to the plan almost to the second. My energy level was high and I was certain that I'd finish strong and achieve my goal. At this point in the race I thought to myself, "after all the years of frustration and disappointment, you're finally going to do it!"

At Mile 11 I saw my friend and host, Nao, who was there to cheer for me. I threw up a fist and cheered right back at him. I was pumped!!

I hit the half in 1:32:35, right on pace. I was exactly where I wanted to be and feeling great. But by mile 14 some fatigue started to set in, and at mile 15 I started to fade a bit. I still kept an even pace from miles 15-18, but I had to work much harder for it. 

By mile 18 I knew that I was in trouble. I slowed down to a 7:30-7:40 pace and thought maybe I could hang on and still finish under 3:10. I thought about all the people back home cheering for me and about how desperately I wanted to go to Boston. But the mental encouragement could only get me so far, eventually my failing body took over. 

By mile 20 I was running on fumes. I was still trying to salvage the race and make the most of it, but by mile 21 I crashed. My body completely shut down. I had no energy left and could do nothing but walk. I was shocked and devastated. I couldn't believe this was happening to me. I tried to run, even at a snail's pace, but after a few seconds of running, my body said "NO!" and forced me to walk again. 

I must have looked horrifying because every few minutes a medic tried to pull me off the course. But I refused to go with them. I insisted on moving forward. I was dizzy, light headed, exhausted, and close to losing consciousness. A sane person would have stepped off the course and called it a day. 

I trudged along with whatever I could muster (and it wasn't much). I shuffled and stumbled my way forward. Cramping in my legs caused my muscles to lock up in searing pain, and nausea made my stomach wretch. After an hour and a half of pure misery, I finally crossed the finish line in a time of 3:46. Suffering like that for so long was one of the most excruciating experiences of my life. 

It was difficult knowing how many people were watching me and pulling for me. I'm so grateful for the support, yet I can't help but feel like I've let people down. I'm also bothered by the mentality of "you're nothing more than your race time." I can't help but feel like I am somehow held in a lower esteem because of this failure. But ultimately I hope I'm judged for who I am as a person and not my finish times. 

Along those lines, it's important that I stay focused on maintaining internal motivations for running. The support of the running community is an amazing thing. But it can also lead to running for reasons that are superficial in nature. It's easy to lose sight of the fact that I should be running for myself, not for the approval or validation of others. 

While I am heartbroken by the result of last week's race, this sport would not be as meaningful without the failures and challenges it presents us. I've experienced many more setbacks than victories in running. I've been crushed and devastated over and over. Yet the thought of walking away has never crossed my mind. To borrow a quote from Kara Goucher, "Nothing in my life has ever broken my heart the way running has. And yet I cannot breathe without it."

Special recognition needs to go out to Perry and Nao. Perry has been a supportive training partner since I joined the Whippets, and it has been so much fun sharing this adventure with him. He has faced setbacks of his own in striving for this goal, and I'm very proud of him for achieving it. Nao has absolutely blown me away with his generosity and hospitality. He took us into his home in Tokyo, and was an invaluable tour guide. He translated for us, helped us order the most delicious food, and gave us an insider's look at his spectacular city. Our trip was enhanced immeasurably because of him. 

I did not allow the disappointing race to impact my enjoyment of this trip. Exploring Japan has been an amazing vacation and tremendous adventure. This was truly the journey of a lifetime. Moving forward, I will go back to the drawing board to come up with a plan. I'll need some time to recover both physically and emotionally, but it won't be long before I'm on the road to Boston again. 

2016 Philadelphia Half Marathon

In May of 2016, after a long break from running, I realized that my training was starting to come together, and I was improving rapidly. But I decided that I did not want to run a marathon in 2016. I'm sure I could have finished a marathon in a somewhat respectable time. But I didn't want to run a marathon until I could do the proper training to run an exceptional race. Instead, I chose the Philadelphia Half Marathon as my goal race of the season.

I started regularly meeting up with my running team, The Dashing Whippets, and developed great relationships with my teammates. I've never met such an incredible group of people. They motivated me, inspired me, and supported me on a daily basis. I was also in regular contact with my coach, Neely Spence Gracey. She provided invaluable guidance throughout the season.

As a result, my training in 2016 could not have gone better. I was consistently running 50-55 miles/week, and I reached levels of fitness I had only dreamed of. During the season I ran a mile in 4:59, a 10 miler in 1:03, and a half in 1:26. I felt absolutely certain that I would have an outstanding performance at the Philly Half. But things didn't go as planned…

I arrived in Philly on Friday morning, did a little bit of sightseeing and picked up my bib. I ran the Rocky steps and fulfilled a childhood dream of mine. After meeting a friend for dinner, I was in bed early, and woke up feeling ready.

I walked to the start line, did a 2.5 mile warm up, and got in my corral. My warm up felt great and reinforced my belief that this race would go well. In fact, I was certain of it. I headed to the start and waited in the corral for about 15 minutes before we took off. My plan was to start conservatively and settle into a comfortable pace for the first 3 miles. That's exactly what happened. The first 3 miles were 6:21-6:23 and I felt amazing. I was completely relaxed and controlled. I felt very confident that I could hold this pace (and probably a faster one) for the entire race.

Miles 4 and 5 were even better. I was completely dialed-in and could not have felt stronger. Then at mile 6 I climbed a hill that was the size of Harlem Hill in Central Park. I tried not to surge up the hill, but just maintain a steady effort. I was able to get over the first hill without any major incident.

But about 5 minutes later, just as I recovered from that hill, I encountered another hill unlike anything I had ever raced on before. It was twice the size of Harlem Hill and even steeper. I did everything I could to maintain control over this hill, but it absolutely broke me and I was never the same.

I simply couldn't recover from this hill, and just as I reached the bottom, there was another massive incline that shot straight up. By the time I reached the top of this 3rd climb I was toast. It was only mile 8 and my legs were done. Fried.

The next 5 miles were some of the longest miles of my life. Fading this early was devastating both physically and emotionally. I went into "survival mode" for the remainder of the race. The discomfort was off the charts and my body was screaming at me. I was in such intense pain that I felt like a trauma victim- simply trying to disassociate myself until it was over. I put every drop of energy into maintaining the fastest pace I could manage. And that pace wasn't much. I was in total agony and begging for the race to end.

All aboard the pain train

I crossed the finish line and nearly collapsed. It was obvious to the medics at the finish line that I was in rough shape. Two staff members held me upright until I caught my breath and regained some strength in my legs. I thanked them and had to assure them repeatedly that I was ok before they allowed me to walk off on my own.

Here are the splits. Just based off these it doesn't look like I had a total meltdown. But I assure you, miles 8-13 were disastrous.

I'm disappointed with the outcome of this race because the finish time does not reflect my fitness level. This was a goal race and I did not perform as expected. But it is well-established that success in this sport is based on long-term consistency and steady development. When I take a step back and look at the big picture, I couldn't be more satisfied with the progress that I've made and the direction that I'm heading.

Moving to New York has been a fantastic change for me on so many levels. But one of the best parts about the move was the opportunity to join NYC's running community. There is a palpable enthusiasm and energy in Central Park, at races, and among the running clubs. I've also landed myself on the most supportive and encouraging running team imaginable. I am amazed by the camaraderie, grateful for the friendships, and excited about continued training with this remarkable group of people.

2016 has been an unparalleled year for growth, new experiences, and successful training. I am eager to find out what 2017 has to offer.