I wanted to run fast at today's Ridgewood 5K to confirm for me that I still can. Yes, I ran very fast at a similar race just a few weeks ago, but none of my other recent races have been anywhere near as good. And since there were some problems at that 5K I've begun wondering if they even measured the course correctly. Perhaps it was too short?? So I want a good performance just so I can be sure.
But today wasn't a good choice for a confidence builder. The day was warm and humid...much more so than I've been running in this year...and the start was late and that just let the day get even warmer and more humid. In fact, my singlet was soaked from just the warm up and sweat dripped down my forehead and throughout my body. So, as I stood at the starting line, waiting to begin I wondered if I was even capable of hitting my goal of under a 7 minute pace.
A 7 minute pace would get me to the finish of a 5K in 21:42. Just a week earlier, in Central Park (a tougher course than Ridgewood) I did 7:17 pace for double the distance. Could I take so much time off now, especially with this forboding (from a runner's perspective) weather?
Well, after 1 mile I was sure that I could. I did it in 6:36! All I had to do was just stay relatively close to this pace and it would be great...but I couldn't! The heat, the humidity, my elevated heart beat all combined to slow me down. Mile 2 was 7:03, a way too steep slow down from my speedy start. But then people began shouting that mile 3 was down hill. I kept looking ahead in anticipation, but all I kept seeing were rolling hills. Downs followed by ups. I cruised on the down parts but the up sections were too much. Where were the down parts only???
Midway through mile 3 my training partner and buddy Wanda came flying by. She is such a strong runner late in races...and it just pisses me off that I should be holding on for dear life while she is cruising. She lengthened her lead and I knew I had no chance of catching her...till we hit a down hill and she didn't seem to speed up but I did. Soon I was drawing even with her, breathing hard and feeling dazed and in pain. Was the race almost over? I couldn't tell. If it was I could push to the finish but now, coming up, I saw another hill. Too much! Wanda pulled away again.
Well, there was no mile 3 marker, but soon I saw the finish line and the clock ticking. It was nearing 21:30 and I was nearing it. With a final push that sent my heart rate to a number it hadn't hit (165) in a long time I crossed the finish at 21:33 a very respectable and gratifying 6:57 pace on a tough day.
A bit later I looked at the official results. I saw the runner who took first in my age group...but there was no one else in our group between him and me. That seemed odd...I was sure there was. What did it mean that there wasn't? My oxygen addled brain couldn't quite compute it. So, when I received the award for second in my age group I still felt surprised. But in a good way, of course.
Now if I could just get those second and third mile times a little faster...
Monday, May 28, 2007
FACING SIMON
Simon is the best pitcher I've ever hit against. Other guys on my team must feel the same because we never beat him. In fact, he and his team beat us in both the 2005 and 2006 championship series, sweeping a total of 4 games from us. We scored very few runs.
When I face Simon, my main goal is to not embarass myself. Not striking out is not necessarily enough. In addition to that I also want to make fairly good contact with the ball, certainly not hitting a pathetic little roller or pop up. I don't even have to get a hit. Not that I've been particularly successful even in this very limited aim. To avoid striking out I've sometimes cut down on my swing. And, by doing that, I've hit more than my share of pathetic little grounders.
So, in the game Wednesday, I was batting last. For a guy who's used to leading off and getting the offense going, this was humbling enough. By the time I batted with 2 outs in the third no one had done much with him. Simon threw me a high change up and I was not particularly fooled. I put a good swing on it but got under it and lofted a fly to left. I thought it would drop in but it held up and the left fielder covered ground well and caught it. A fly to left! Not much, of course, but I was one of only 2 or 3 to get the ball out of the infield. So not bad.
Definitely not a humiliation!
My second at bat was more fun. I lined a pitch down the right field line, landing just beyond the reach of the outfielder...and just foul! Too bad. There was a runner on and, had the right fielder kicked the ball far enough, our baserunner might have scored. Since the game ended in a 0 - 0 tie I would have been the hero. But, alas! The count was 0-2 and Simon tried to throw a low riser at my knees. It stayed too low and I took it for a ball. Then he tried the opposite, a high riser that he hoped I'd chase, but I didn't. Ball 2. This felt like a good, hard working at bat. His next pitch was a fast ball and again I hit it solidly, on a line, but right at the shortstop. Nothing! But 3 good contacts.
So another game passes without embarrassment. The next pitcher we face is not nearly as good so I'll raise my hopes. Now I need a couple of hits to make up for my 0 for 2 against Simon!
When I face Simon, my main goal is to not embarass myself. Not striking out is not necessarily enough. In addition to that I also want to make fairly good contact with the ball, certainly not hitting a pathetic little roller or pop up. I don't even have to get a hit. Not that I've been particularly successful even in this very limited aim. To avoid striking out I've sometimes cut down on my swing. And, by doing that, I've hit more than my share of pathetic little grounders.
So, in the game Wednesday, I was batting last. For a guy who's used to leading off and getting the offense going, this was humbling enough. By the time I batted with 2 outs in the third no one had done much with him. Simon threw me a high change up and I was not particularly fooled. I put a good swing on it but got under it and lofted a fly to left. I thought it would drop in but it held up and the left fielder covered ground well and caught it. A fly to left! Not much, of course, but I was one of only 2 or 3 to get the ball out of the infield. So not bad.
Definitely not a humiliation!
My second at bat was more fun. I lined a pitch down the right field line, landing just beyond the reach of the outfielder...and just foul! Too bad. There was a runner on and, had the right fielder kicked the ball far enough, our baserunner might have scored. Since the game ended in a 0 - 0 tie I would have been the hero. But, alas! The count was 0-2 and Simon tried to throw a low riser at my knees. It stayed too low and I took it for a ball. Then he tried the opposite, a high riser that he hoped I'd chase, but I didn't. Ball 2. This felt like a good, hard working at bat. His next pitch was a fast ball and again I hit it solidly, on a line, but right at the shortstop. Nothing! But 3 good contacts.
So another game passes without embarrassment. The next pitcher we face is not nearly as good so I'll raise my hopes. Now I need a couple of hits to make up for my 0 for 2 against Simon!
Monday, May 14, 2007
DOUBLE DELIGHT
Two more strong games! Solid hitting, a couple of walks, 4 runs scored and a RBI. Three games now and I'm still good! Well, now, at least, I can relax till next week.
:-))
:-))
SOFTBALL STRUGGLES
I worry about my softball abilities. I'm not as good as I was in the past. That's particularly so in the outfield. Once I was SUCH a good outfielder. Now I'm not. I used to get on base all the time. Now it's more of a struggle. As a result my position on both my teams is less secure and I wonder just how much I can still contribute.
That's not very pleasent.
Defensively this season I've been okay except for one awful play. Offensively I judge myself by 2 basic standards. I want to be on base at least twice each game and score a run. After 8 games I've been on 14 times and crossed home with 8 runs. Not bad. But I've had some poor at bats in the last few games and that's got me worried.
Yesterday's game is a great illustration of what I'm going through. I never touched the ball in the field. My first 2 at bats were pretty awful. Twice I swung at difficult pitches and hit them weakly. I was over anxious. I began wondering if I should be batting at the top of the lineup. I wondered if I belonged in the lineup at all.
Despite my non contribution the score was tied, 0-0, late in the game. I came to bat in the sixth with a runner on first and no one out. I moved up in the box and told myself to look for something a little higher than the pitches I'd made outs on. I got 1 and singled to center. Finally, a contribution! The next 3 batters made outs, however, and the game remained scoreless. Still, I was SO relieved!
Neither team could break through and it looked like I'd bat again. If I made another out I'd be a weak 1-4 and that sucks. But my 1-3 wasn't very good either. I told myself to just do my best if I got another chance. The game went to extra innings and I lead off the ninth. Getting on was critical. The first pitch was to my liking and I lined it to the right of the shortstop, a clean hit. I was so pleased...actually, so relieved! I hadn't fucked up our game. Now I was a very respectable 2-4 and had a chance to score the winning (and the game's only) run. That would make everything...alright.
I've always loved to run the bases and I was an awfully good baserunner. And, to me, there is nothing more exciting than scoring an important run. I advanced to second, sliding hard, when the second basement mishandled a ground ball.
I love to score from second. I love to fly around third and then sweep by the catcher. When the next batter lined the ball to center I thought that's exactly what would happen...except the centerfielder was playing shallow, the ball held up, I stopped quickly and saw the fielder make a great running catch. I rushed back to second and dove into the bag ahead of the throw. I guarantee that half (maybe more)of the players on my team would have been double up. I'd made a smart play.
The next batter dribbled one in front of the plate, I ran to third and everyone was safe. Bases loaded now with 1 out. All we needed was a good flyball. And that's what our batter delivered. I took off and slid into home thought a slide wasn't necessary. We won and I did indeed score the winning (and only) (and difficult) run!
I didn't play a great game but I had played a good one and contributed to our win!
So now I feel that I don't suck at the moment. But that might change after today's doubleheader.
That's not very pleasent.
Defensively this season I've been okay except for one awful play. Offensively I judge myself by 2 basic standards. I want to be on base at least twice each game and score a run. After 8 games I've been on 14 times and crossed home with 8 runs. Not bad. But I've had some poor at bats in the last few games and that's got me worried.
Yesterday's game is a great illustration of what I'm going through. I never touched the ball in the field. My first 2 at bats were pretty awful. Twice I swung at difficult pitches and hit them weakly. I was over anxious. I began wondering if I should be batting at the top of the lineup. I wondered if I belonged in the lineup at all.
Despite my non contribution the score was tied, 0-0, late in the game. I came to bat in the sixth with a runner on first and no one out. I moved up in the box and told myself to look for something a little higher than the pitches I'd made outs on. I got 1 and singled to center. Finally, a contribution! The next 3 batters made outs, however, and the game remained scoreless. Still, I was SO relieved!
Neither team could break through and it looked like I'd bat again. If I made another out I'd be a weak 1-4 and that sucks. But my 1-3 wasn't very good either. I told myself to just do my best if I got another chance. The game went to extra innings and I lead off the ninth. Getting on was critical. The first pitch was to my liking and I lined it to the right of the shortstop, a clean hit. I was so pleased...actually, so relieved! I hadn't fucked up our game. Now I was a very respectable 2-4 and had a chance to score the winning (and the game's only) run. That would make everything...alright.
I've always loved to run the bases and I was an awfully good baserunner. And, to me, there is nothing more exciting than scoring an important run. I advanced to second, sliding hard, when the second basement mishandled a ground ball.
I love to score from second. I love to fly around third and then sweep by the catcher. When the next batter lined the ball to center I thought that's exactly what would happen...except the centerfielder was playing shallow, the ball held up, I stopped quickly and saw the fielder make a great running catch. I rushed back to second and dove into the bag ahead of the throw. I guarantee that half (maybe more)of the players on my team would have been double up. I'd made a smart play.
The next batter dribbled one in front of the plate, I ran to third and everyone was safe. Bases loaded now with 1 out. All we needed was a good flyball. And that's what our batter delivered. I took off and slid into home thought a slide wasn't necessary. We won and I did indeed score the winning (and only) (and difficult) run!
I didn't play a great game but I had played a good one and contributed to our win!
So now I feel that I don't suck at the moment. But that might change after today's doubleheader.
Saturday, May 5, 2007
I'M BACK!!!!
I may be fast again!!!
The last few months have been soooo frustrating! No matter what I did I couldn't seem to be fast. I've trained hard, regularly and, for a while now, without injury or illness. Yet none of this seemed reflected in my race times. The crusher came 2 weeks ago in a small 4 miler. Though I won my age group I ran slightly slower than the Colon Cancer contest of almost 2 months ago. Other runs have given me similar lukewarm results.
Today was the All Star 5K at Bronx Community College. As I ran a 7:13 pace at the recent 4 mile race, I thought a 7 minute pace exactly would be challenging but, perhaps, possible. Certainly it would be on a flat course but the Bronx, of course, is hilly.
I think I have a chance of placing in any non Road Runner event, so I lined up in the front row and went out fairly hard at the start. A small group spurted forward but I stayed with the second pack, enjoying our more reasonable pace as we rolled through about half a mile of fairly steady downhills. Then, up ahead, the street inclined nastily. I mentally willed the lead runners to turn right and onto a level side street, but it didn't work. We had to run that up but it soon evened out and we reached the Grand Concourse.
No split. There wasn't a 1 mile split, at least none that I had seen. Perhaps we hadn't reached it yet, but we were running too long and I felt too fatigued for that to be true. Certainly I didn't want it to be true. I looked at my watch...we'd been running for over 9 minutes. This was confusing for me. Often I run the first mile too fast and, when I see my over speedy split I slow down...frequently too late to avoid paying for it late in the race. But now I hadn't gotten my warning. Was I going too fast? I'd tried to be moderate but I never know. Still, I felt reasonably strong.
We came to a turnaround on the Concourse. Was this the half way point? I kept a steady pace and soon we turned off the Grand Concourse. Was this the 2 mile point? Still no markers. Now I did feel fatigued and my mouth was very dry. If the first mile was mostly downhill wouldn't the finale be mostly up? Logically, yes, but I hoped that logic was off. It wasn't. My watch read just under 14 minutes. If there was just about a mile left then I was right near pace. If not....It didn't seem fair to not know. Still I kept pushing on.
But that effort seemed to slow to a crawl on the hills leading back to campus. About half way up one, a runner went passed. I didn't really care...till I noticed that he had grey hair...perhaps he was in my age group! The course leveled and I saw the gateway to the campus. I thought the race would end just inside. Summoning my last bit of energy I kicked passed him...while hoping that the race really was near the finish. It was! As I pushed to the end, easily out running my competitor, I noticed something surprising...The clock hadn't reached 21 minutes yet! I was way ahead of my hoped for pace. AND, I'd only beaten 21 minutes once before. I strained to do it again...
But I didn't make it!! I came across in 21:01, a time that I was EXREMELY happy with, my second fastest 5K ever.
Walking slowly, I learned that the runner I'd just managed to beat was, indeed, in my age group. In fact a runner right behind him was also in our group. If another age group competitor finished in the small group of runners ahead of me, I could have been knocked right out of an award. And, seeing, the gorgeous trophies on the table nearby, I was very glad that hadn't happened...
...Until I mentioned that to the race director who said that none of the trophies were for the 5K!! The big event of the day was their 10K...a distance they'd been racing for years. This was the first year they'd added the 5K and they had no idea how many people would compete. So they only planned awards for the top 3 male and top 3 female finishers.
What a rip off!! No splits, no trophies, maybe they won't even post our times. RIP OFF!!!
But I don't really care. I know my time and I know that I should have won an award. And I know one other thing as well...
...I'm back!!!!!
The last few months have been soooo frustrating! No matter what I did I couldn't seem to be fast. I've trained hard, regularly and, for a while now, without injury or illness. Yet none of this seemed reflected in my race times. The crusher came 2 weeks ago in a small 4 miler. Though I won my age group I ran slightly slower than the Colon Cancer contest of almost 2 months ago. Other runs have given me similar lukewarm results.
Today was the All Star 5K at Bronx Community College. As I ran a 7:13 pace at the recent 4 mile race, I thought a 7 minute pace exactly would be challenging but, perhaps, possible. Certainly it would be on a flat course but the Bronx, of course, is hilly.
I think I have a chance of placing in any non Road Runner event, so I lined up in the front row and went out fairly hard at the start. A small group spurted forward but I stayed with the second pack, enjoying our more reasonable pace as we rolled through about half a mile of fairly steady downhills. Then, up ahead, the street inclined nastily. I mentally willed the lead runners to turn right and onto a level side street, but it didn't work. We had to run that up but it soon evened out and we reached the Grand Concourse.
No split. There wasn't a 1 mile split, at least none that I had seen. Perhaps we hadn't reached it yet, but we were running too long and I felt too fatigued for that to be true. Certainly I didn't want it to be true. I looked at my watch...we'd been running for over 9 minutes. This was confusing for me. Often I run the first mile too fast and, when I see my over speedy split I slow down...frequently too late to avoid paying for it late in the race. But now I hadn't gotten my warning. Was I going too fast? I'd tried to be moderate but I never know. Still, I felt reasonably strong.
We came to a turnaround on the Concourse. Was this the half way point? I kept a steady pace and soon we turned off the Grand Concourse. Was this the 2 mile point? Still no markers. Now I did feel fatigued and my mouth was very dry. If the first mile was mostly downhill wouldn't the finale be mostly up? Logically, yes, but I hoped that logic was off. It wasn't. My watch read just under 14 minutes. If there was just about a mile left then I was right near pace. If not....It didn't seem fair to not know. Still I kept pushing on.
But that effort seemed to slow to a crawl on the hills leading back to campus. About half way up one, a runner went passed. I didn't really care...till I noticed that he had grey hair...perhaps he was in my age group! The course leveled and I saw the gateway to the campus. I thought the race would end just inside. Summoning my last bit of energy I kicked passed him...while hoping that the race really was near the finish. It was! As I pushed to the end, easily out running my competitor, I noticed something surprising...The clock hadn't reached 21 minutes yet! I was way ahead of my hoped for pace. AND, I'd only beaten 21 minutes once before. I strained to do it again...
But I didn't make it!! I came across in 21:01, a time that I was EXREMELY happy with, my second fastest 5K ever.
Walking slowly, I learned that the runner I'd just managed to beat was, indeed, in my age group. In fact a runner right behind him was also in our group. If another age group competitor finished in the small group of runners ahead of me, I could have been knocked right out of an award. And, seeing, the gorgeous trophies on the table nearby, I was very glad that hadn't happened...
...Until I mentioned that to the race director who said that none of the trophies were for the 5K!! The big event of the day was their 10K...a distance they'd been racing for years. This was the first year they'd added the 5K and they had no idea how many people would compete. So they only planned awards for the top 3 male and top 3 female finishers.
What a rip off!! No splits, no trophies, maybe they won't even post our times. RIP OFF!!!
But I don't really care. I know my time and I know that I should have won an award. And I know one other thing as well...
...I'm back!!!!!
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