The Asics Marathon brought to you by Nike

There were a couple of things that stood out during Sunday’s New York City Marathon. Let’s start with Lance Armstrong first. I was struck at the production surrounding Armstrong’s marathon debut that was magnified when the cameras panned back on the web cast and showed the famous cyclist and philanthropist running in a phalanx of security pals, famous Nike runners, a pace car and the “Lance Cam.”

In interviews Armstrong talked about how he was excited to be a mid-packer – which he kind of is with his 2:59:36 finishing time. But when was the last time a mid-packer had Alberto Salazar, German Silva, Joan Samuelson and Hicham El Guerrouj say anything other than, “you’re welcome for the autograph…” Forget about acting as a rabbit or handing over drinks or gels.

The absolute genius of Armstrong’s run in New York didn’t dawn on me until I was about 2 miles into today’s run (a 14-miler in 1:35:26). Asics, the sponsor of runners Deena Kastor and Stefano Baldini, was the “official” sponsor of the race. The shirts, jackets, caps, etc. that runners bought or were given at the expo were branded with the Asics logo. So too was the finish line area and mile markers. Asics clearly spent a lot of money to be the “official” sporting goods sponsor of the ING New York City Marathon.

But all anyone will talk about is the Nike guy and his Nike pals breaking 3-hours.

Nike knows marketing. In fact I wouldn’t be surprised if Nike suggested to Armstrong that he run the New York City Marathon. Why not? Nike already had all of the top runners, how about the 3-hour guys, too.

Shrewd. Very shrewd.

Ready, set... uh... go? The other thing that struck me was how passive and tentative the top runners were. Chalk this up to the deep field where every runner knew each other’s credentials and chose to err on the side of caution. When eventual winner Marilson Gomes dos Santos made his move on First Avenue before crossing in to the South Bronx just shy of the 20th mile, the ever-dwindling main pack of runners just allowed him to waltz ahead. It seemed as if everyone in the pack was watching Paul Tergat. When Tergat didn’t break after the Brazilian, no else did either.

That is until it was too late.

Afterwards, according to the Chasing KIMBIA site, Tergat told second-place finisher Stephen Kiogora that “we let him get to far away.”

Well, yeah.

The same thing happened in the women’s race, too, only the star-studded women’s field allowed the defending NYC champ build a 20-second lead after one mile that quickly turned to a minute for most of the race. By the time Jelena Prokopcuka was blowing kisses to the crowd in Central Park while jogging in the final mile, her name had already been engraved on her trophy.

Like Tergat, women’s favorite Kastor said the women’s race was too tactical.

“I think we were being a little tentative, and by the time it was ready to roll it was too late,” she told reporters. “I think out of respect to the other women. I think we were all tentative in seeing what the others wanted to do.”

Those tactics by some of the best runners in the world are baffling. After months of training, planning and hype, when it came time to get dirty and be aggressive, only two runners went after it.

“To win a marathon you have to have courage,” dos Santos said.

Americans? The 2006 New York City Marathon turned out to be just a typical outing for American runners. On the women’s side, Kastor finished sixth in 2:27. She chalked her disappointing finish up to just one of those days.

Meanwhile, stomach trouble ruined Alan Culpepper and Meb Keflezighi’s day. Culpepper dropped out in the Bronx after 20 miles, while Meb, who finished in second and third in the past two years, limped home in 2:22:02. According to The New York Times, Keflezighi got food poisoning in New York on Thursday and drank Pepto-Bismal before the race on Sunday morning.

It didn’t help.

Californian Peter Gilmore, who is not sponsored by Nike, adidas or Asics, was the top American in 2:13:13. That’s Gilmore’s second-best time ever, and a good encore for his seventh-place finish in 2:12:45 in Boston last April.

Wonder boy Dathan Ritzenhein ran 2:14:01 in his highly anticipated marathon debut. Ritzenhein ran a 61-minute half marathon in his tune up before New York, which made him a pre-race top 10 pick, but as veteran marathoners know, the race is fickle and tricky. If you have a weakness, the marathon will expose it.

That fact is the only guarantee about marathon running.

1 week to go

For a more in-depth examination of the training week, go to the other site. Here’s a brief outline of the running week that was:

Monday
21 miles in 2:17:08
Ran the last four miles in 23:01.

Tuesday
14.3 miles in 1:37:28
Time to dial it back.

Wednesday
10 miles in 64:30
Didn't think I was going as fast as I was, but you know...

Thursday
10 miles in 64:43
Ho-hum.

Friday
10 miles in 68:28
Stomach was a little upset and my right hip and left hamstring were achy, but the run was pretty easy.

Saturday
6 miles warmup and cool down – 5k race in 16:23.
Sixth place. The pace felt easy.

Sunday
14 miles in 1:35:26
A nice easy run despite some discomfort with my stomach.

Total mileage: 88.4. First week under 100 miles in a while.

1 week to go

I will explain the logic and method to my taper on Monday. Today’s offering will simply be an outline of the penultimate week of training before the Harrisburg Marathon on Nov. 12.

Like I wrote last week, I was not going to run 100 miles or even 90 miles two weeks out. Instead I did 88.4 miles, which makes me feel like a slacker following 14 straight 100-mile weeks.

Anyway, here’s me dialing it down:

Monday
21 miles in 2:17:08
Ran the last four miles in 23:01. The course was hilly and the effort wasn't all out, but it definitely was work. Either way, I did OK for 17 miles even though my there was something swooshing around in my stomach.

Tuesday
14.3 miles in 1:37:28
Time to dial it back.

Wednesday
10 miles in 64:30
Didn't think I was going as fast as I was, but you know...

Thursday
10 miles in 64:43
Ho-hum.

Friday
10 miles in 68:28
Stomach was a little upset and my right hip and left hamstring were achy, but the run was pretty easy.

Saturday
6 miles warmup and cool down – 5k race in 16:23.
16:23 is pretty good for me. The pace felt easy and I imagine that I could have gone faster. I would have been happy with anything under 17 because of the marathon-training mileage. Either way, it appears as if I'm in shape. I won my age group by more than 2 minutes and came in sixth place overall.

Sunday
14 miles in 1:35:26
A nice easy run despite some discomfort with my stomach. After learning that stomach issues messed up Meb Keflezighi and Alan Culpepper in New York today, I have to be very, very careful with what I eat this week. Nonetheless, the run was easy and uneventful. It would have been much more fun if my stomach was better.

Oh no, not this again...

I hate racing.

Let me rephrase that. I hate racism, ignorance, poverty, diseases and war. I dislike racing. The early mornings, the stress, the other runners and the pain… who needs it?

Nevertheless, racing is the best way I know to gauge my fitness and with the marathon set for next Sunday, knowing if I’m in shape or not is a good thing. Plus, a decent run can do wonders for one’s confidence. In fact, I remember the 5-mile race a week before the ’98 Boston Marathon that sent my confidence soaring so high that I strutted around like a peacock for weeks.

Regardless, I have outgrown that arrogance, at least as far as running is concerned. These days I save my peacock struts for other things like good zingers in the press dining room. Since most people don’t know what a good 5k time is, what’s the point in acting like a jerk?

That doesn’t mean that I didn’t want to run well on Saturday. And after a 16:23.14 for sixth place in the Manheim Township 5k (or whatever it’s called) and first in the 30-to-39 age group by more than two minutes, I’m as good (relative term) as I thought I was.

If I don’t run between 2:36 and 2:39 next Sunday it’s my own damn fault.

Anyway, the thing I most dislike about racing is the fact that I can’t remember a single race that I have ever run where I didn’t want to quit. In every single race there comes a time where I want to calmly step off the course, turn around and walk slowly back to my car. Once there, I get in, turn the key, drive away and never look back. It’s inevitable.

Fortunately, I have never done it. Good or bad, I have finished every race, though there was the one time in 1998 where the cramps were so crippling that I stopped running and walked/jogged it back in while feeling sorry for myself the entire time.

You know, because that 12k was just so important.

On Saturday that feeling came less than a mile into the race, but only because it looked as if I passed a convenient place to stop. After all, I reasoned, my car was nearby and I could always blame my achy hamstring since I had been complaining about it most of the morning. When my wife asked me how I felt before the race, I said, "My stomach feels OK, but my hamstring is a little achy... "

When talking to local running legend Mark Amway at the starting line about how we felt, I mentioned that my hamstrings were older than my age.

"If only there were such a thing as hamstring transplants," I joked.

Wait... is there such a thing? Can I get two new ones, please?

Regardless, it’s always good to have a built in excuse.

But once the gun sounded to start the race, my hamstring didn’t hurt. I wasn’t injured and the pace didn’t feel too tremendously taxing. Actually, the 5:20ish pace through the first mile was pretty comfortable. Just like the 10:40ish split through two miles. The problem was that I just didn’t have one extra gear to catch the leaders, who remained in sight the entire race but were probably averaging 5-minutes per mile compared to my 5:17. Perhaps when the marathon training is completed and I start to race a few 5k and 10ks, I will be able to catch them.

Wait… did I just say I was going to start racing?

Well, that’s the plan. After next week’s marathon I’m going to pare down the training a bit and see if I can run some fast times in other distances. Then, when January rolls around, I’ll start thinking about another marathon for the spring.

That’s the plan, anyway.

Back to the race – the course was flat and on the roads around the township’s golf course, pool, dog park, skate park and roller-skating barn. The area is wide open -- as golf courses are wont to be – and a loop course, which led me to believe that the wind was going to be a factor. But despite the temperatures in the high 30s, the wind didn’t really bother me. Oh sure, I wore gloves, a headband and a Nike compression shirt (you know, to show off my 4-pack), but after working up a lather during my 30-minute warm up, I was comfortable. When the breeze licked my face on the way back just about halfway through, it actually felt kind of refreshing.

It was also refreshing not to be out in no-man’s land, too. Though the top two finishers were unreachable, I ran in a pack of four or five runners strung out over five seconds from front to back. That fact helped carry me through after my initial desire to quit. It also got me from the second mile to the finish line in 5:43.

I didn’t glance at my watch at all, though, and had no idea how fast or slow I was going until the clock at the finish line came into view. With a modest goal of running better than 17 minutes, I felt very satisfied when the clock showed 15:30 with a little less than a quarter-mile to go.

Better yet, it was even more satisfying to see my wife and son cheering from the sidelines as I brought it home. My wife appeared just as pleased with the finishing time, while my son was just happy to see his daddy.

“Are you alright?” he asked afterwards.

“Yes I am, big boy.”

Running nugget
The New Yorkers are gearing up for tomorrow’s big race and seem to be excited about the strong American field. John Brant, author of the appeasing A Duel in the Sun about Alberto Salazar and Dick Beardsley’s race in the 1982 Boston Marathon, examines the prospects for an American breakthrough.

Speaking of running books, I’m reading A Clear, Cold Day, which is a biography of marathon trailblazer Buddy Edelen. A lawyer named Frank Murphy wrote it, and, frankly, he writes like a lawyer. It’s a good book for people who want to read about training methods and racing in the days before the running boom, but it’s a bad book for people who like good writing.

Best bets

Last week: 1-2
Year-to-date: 9-7-1

The Eagles really let me down last weekend. Judging from the smoldering cars abandoned on the side of the road, the random fires in barrels doting the landscape and the general malaise of the populace in the Delaware Valley, my guess is that last Sunday’s game let down many of you good folks out there, too.

In retrospect, we were fortunate here in Lancaster that the game was not televised past Chester County. Nevertheless, the mood and news seeped into our locus a like steaming green toxic ooze with the viscose of lava. Because the Eagles couldn’t get out of their own way or solve the Jacksonville Jaguars’ running attack, I suffered my first losing week since the early portion of the season.

I also made a mistake in taking the New York Jets to win instead of the New York Giants.

Oh well… it happens.

But we’re refreshed and ready to go this week. The odds have been glanced at and it’s time to start winning again.

Ready? Let’s go:

Dallas minus 3 over Washington
There’s trouble in the District and it has nothing to do with Tuesday’s election. The ‘Skins are a home ‘dog to a team still soaring after an improbable comeback on national television just a week earlier, not to mention that the team in question can see first place just sitting there like a forgotten wallet left on a bench.

Then again, it’s not so much of an issue of the Cowboys’ “hotness” with their shiny new QB placating to the batbleep crazy receiver. No, the Redskins, well… they aren’t good.

New Orleans minus 1 over Tampa Bay
The Bucs are another home ‘dog that are going down. Sure, they may have won a few games thanks to their steel-toed kicker, but the Bucs face a team that is 7 for its last 8 as a road favorite.

Hey, that was enough to sway me.

Indianapolis minus 1 over New England
We’re taking a road ‘dog this time. We are also hailing the changing of the guard and the tossing of the proverbial monkey off the back. Those proverbial monkeys carry treacherous parasites that infect the depths of a football players’ soul and make him work out extra hard in the summertime.

The only cure is beating a particular opponent a bunch of times until the player becomes fat and complacent and crazy to the point that he will wildly throw passes into double or triple coverage.

Don’t believe me? Just go to Wisconsin sometime this winter. You’ll see it.

Speaking of Wisconsin…

Wisconsin minus 7 over Penn State
Run to the bank. Run like Paul Tergat with Hendrick Ramaala closing in on his tail.

New York state of mind

I can still remember the first time I saw the World Trade Center, Empire State Building and the rest of the Manhattan skyline. From the back seat of the family car it loomed there in the distance like the North Star. My sister and I pressed or faces close to the window as we traveled up the New Jersey Turnpike and stared as hard as we could like we were trying solve some sort of puzzle while the building come in and out of view through the smoke stacks, rusty bridges and industrial landscape that makes up the Meadowlands. We had lived in Washington and grown used to the muted and stately skyline where the only the Washington Monument rose above the Capitol dome, so seeing New York City and its anything-goes architecture crammed as tightly as possible onto that thin slip of land was mesmerizing. How did that do that? Where did all of those buildings come from?

It’s just so amazing.

Twenty-three years later I stare the same way whenever I make the trip to New York City. The feeling has not changed though I still can’t get used to the current view of the skyline. Manhattan looks unanchored without those twin towers at the southern end of the island.

Nevertheless, the reason for that very first trip to New York City was for the marathon. My dad was going to run in the race that late October of 1983 and my mom, sister and me were going to do the touristy stuff all weekend and catch part of the race, too. We did it all – Times Square, Rockefeller Center, St. Patrick’s, the Empire State Building, Macy’s, the Staten Island Ferry, the Statue of Liberty, Central Park, Tavern on the Green, breakfast in a non-tourist coffee shop…

We were just a few rubes in the big city for the weekend.

The draw, of course, was the marathon. Just the year prior, I watched rapt as Alberto Salazar won the ’82 marathon for the third straight year in 2:09:29. Little did we know then that the victory was the beginning of the end for Salazar’s running career. Still, his times – three under 2:09:41 on the difficult NYC course and a 2:08:52 in Boston in ’82 – still hold up.

The 1983 NYC Marathon (Manufactures Hanover was the title sponsor back then, but that stuff is really insignificant) was most remembered for the rainy and damp conditions, and Rod Dixon’s incredible comeback to beat Geoff Smith. Dixon, one of the most versatile runners ever – as well as one of the most interesting and fun based on interviews – overtook Smith in Central Park with less than a mile to go to win in 2:08:59.

Then, in the rain, came the celebration.

The Oct. 24, 1983 edition of The New York Times described the bliss thusly:

In an ebullient display of emotion after surging across the line, the lanky, mustachioed Dixon dropped to his knees, lifted his arms, kissed the wet pavement, again raised his arms and put his hands to his head. "I did want it very much," he said after extending his string of road-racing victories to 20 over the last 14 months. "And somehow you just express how you feel. I had tears."

Dixon's time, despite a series of hamstring problems during the race, was the second fastest ever in New York, behind Alberto Salazar's world-best 2:08:13 two years ago. Only seven other marathoners have run faster than Dixon did yesterday, and his time was 10th best over all.

Man, did those old-timers ever run some good races.

Years later, what I found the most interesting was that Dixon, a New Zealander who trained with greats John Walker and Dick Quax from the long line of Arthur Lydiard’s storied stable and won the bronze medal in the 1500 meters in the 1972 Olympics, did his build up for NYC in Reading, Pa.

New Zealand or Reading, Pa.? Yeah, how about Reading? The most versatile runner ever trained for the biggest marathon in the world just off route 222?

Amazing.

Search as I might, I have not had much success in gleaning stories, articles or folk tales from Dixon’s days of training in Reading. However, I heard Dixon describe Reading as a place he felt comfortable training because of all of hills and anonymity. There are very few distractions in Reading, though we’re sure Dixon made a few stops in the Peanut Bar during down time in his training.

If Dixon were coming up these days I’m sure Central Pennsylvania would have never been a blip on his radar. Chances are he would have secluded himself in Colorado with all of the other anti-social running groups.

Anyway, if anyone has any stories or information regarding Rod Dixon from his days in Reading, I’d love to hear them.

Deep in 2006 As I’ve written many times on these pages, the 2006 New York City Marathon could be the deepest one assembled since those halcyon days. The names in both the men and women’s fields read like an all-star team or a who’s who of distance running.

Want to see the world-record holder, Olympic champ and runner up and all of the top American runners in one race? Try the streets of New York this Sunday morning.

Ubiquitous running site Letsrun.com offers a pretty good breakdown of the field, so I’ll just try to think of good reasons why Paul Tergat (the world-record holder), Stefano Baldini (the Olympic champ), and Hendrick Ramaala (the 2004 NYC champ) won’t finish as the trifecta.

I can’t.

I’d love to write that like Salazar in 1980, American Dathan Ritzenhein, just 23, would break through to win in his marathon debut. Certainly his 61:26 in the Great North Run half marathon, where he smoked Baldini, by more than a minute shows that Ritzenhein is fit.

I’d also like to write that American Meb Keflezighi, the Olympic silver medallist and NYC runner-up in 2004, is going to win his first major race this weekend, too. After all, Keflezighi ran a gutsy race and finished third in Boston in April. Despite his hamstring trouble last month, Keflezighi is definitely battle tested.

And of course I’d like to write that American Alan Culpepper is going to let it all hang loose and be risky instead of his typically intelligent tactics. Culpepper is always consistently steady, which produces great times but it isn’t exactly inspiring. To steal a phrase from baseball players, Culpepper doesn’t like to “get dirty.”

But then again, Juma Ikangaa is retired so don’t expect any wild man tactics at the always tactical NYC. For the top Americans, a smartly run race could be beneficial, though, as Baldini expressed in an interview this week, the race is on as soon as the runners cross over the 59th Street Bridge into Manhattan and First Avenue around the 16th mile.

How much fun would it be to see the American trio throw in a surge as soon as they make the turn onto First Avenue?

Nevertheless, here’s my predicted order of finish: Ramaala beats Tergat in a less dramatic finish than the diving and sprawling duel to the end in 2005.

Two Americans will finish in the top seven. Maybe even three in the top 10.

On the women’s side I like Catherine Ndereba to win. American record holder Deena Kastor is definitely a top contender, but for some reason I don’t think she will finish in the top three.

Just a hunch. Nothing more.

Other predictions * One of the announcers calling the race will make a reference to Simon & Garfunkel when the runners cross the 59th Street Bridge. The announcer will utter the line, “… feelin’ groovy… ” before laughing like a jackal or a typical TV stuffed shirt.

* During the past two races, there were six times better than 2:10. This year there will be at least five runners who break 2:10. Why? The weather. The forecast is calling for temperatures in the high 40s. With all of the tall buildings as a buffer, the 8-m.p.h. wind probably won’t be a factor.

Then again, weather, wind and water don’t really matter so much according to a story in The Times.

* Lance Armstrong will get more camera time than the women’s race. With Salazar, and Joan Samuelson pacing him, he should run well despite his downplaying his training. I think he’s sandbagging.

* The web cast of the race will be far more interesting than the network’s packaged and sanitized “program.”

Cautious confidence

The end of a training period is always a bittersweet time. There is that sense of relief of reaching the race intact and without too much wear and tear. In most cases, when I blocked out some time to train properly, the last two weeks before the race are relaxing for everything but my mind.

The head games are where the stress is. Did I train enough? Did I do the proper workouts? What about the weather? Do I have the right clothes to wear? Should I be a little more aggressive during the first half?

And of course, can I do this?

Other than that, taper time is a vacation. A working, productive vacation.

At the same time, the day after the race I always get that hollow feeling of, “OK, now what?”

“Now what” is tricky. A lot of what the next race or goal should be depends on what happens in the race, which is the position I’m in. I know what I want to do if I exceed my goal time and standing in the race – you know, the best-case scenario.

But then the worst-case scenario is always out there. That’s the part I’m not thinking about right now. Oh sure, if things just blow up and go straight to hell, there are a few races I could jump in over the following weeks, but that’s kind of extreme.

If it turns out that I’m just not very good, we have to reevaluate all of this.

So that’s where we are after Thursday’s 10-miler in 64:43. Call it cautious confidence.

Nevertheless, if there is some relief it’s from the compliments and the good wishes from the folks at the office. There’s nothing like a little ego stroking to make a person feel better about themselves.

Running (NYC) nugget
* Lance Armstrong has his rabbits. Now let’s see him go to work.

* Apparently, the marathon isn’t for plodders any more.

* I only run with my iPod when I don’t need to focus or concentrate. However, some people use that kind of stuff all the time.

Winter could be warm for Phillies

For the past two seasons, the Phillies scored some runs. Actually, the Phillies scored a lot of runs. Last year the Phils led the National League with 865 runs, and hold the distinction as the league’s most prolific run-scoring team over the past three seasons.

Needless to say, the Phillies’ hitters have provided ample support for the pitching staff. But according to a story in the Philadelphia Inquirer, general manager Pat Gillick is interested in adding even more punch to the offense.

When the free-agent signing period official opens on Nov. 12, the Phillies are expected to offer Nationals’ free agent Alfonso Soriano a big, fat contract. According to The Washington Post, Soriano is looking for a deal similar to Carlos Beltran’s seven-year, $119 million pact inked with the Mets two years ago. The Phillies’ response: how about five years for $80 million?

Soriano, of course, hit 46 homers and swiped 41 bags in 2006 with 95 RBIs despite serving as the Nationals’ primary leadoff hitter. In 2006, Soriano’s OPS jumped to a career-high .911, but his strikeouts also soared to a new high of 160.

Regardless, Phils' GM Pat Gillick has coveted Soriano all the way back to his days in Seattle. According to ESPN's Buster Olney, Gillick tried to trade for Soriano when he was with the Yankees, offering reliever Jose Paniagua.

Though the Mets are also reportedly interested in the 40-40 man – the Orioles too, but they are likely a long shot – the Phillies should view Soriano as a perfect middle-of-the-order hitter to provide the supposed need for protection for Ryan Howard.

How much protection does a guy who hit 58 homers really need?

Now here’s the rub – according to sources and published reports, the Phillies could make the offer to Soriano even without trading much-maligned left fielder Pat Burrell.

Burrell and Soriano in the same lineup as Chase Utley, Ryan Howard and Jimmy Rollins? Yeah, that could work.

Nevertheless, there are still many issues and bridges to cross here. The Phillies still are very interested in dealing away Burrell and the $27 million owed on the final two seasons of his deal. And of course he has that pesky no-trade clause to contend with, too.

Suppose the Phillies land Soriano and fail to deal Burrell… does that mean Soriano is the right fielder? Playing right field is considerably tougher than playing left, and Soriano struggled in his first season as an outfielder for the Nats last season. Sure, Soriano led all outfielders with 22 assists last season, but he also committed 11 errors, which was one behind Adam Dunn for the league lead.

Still, if nothing else it appears as if the Phillies will be very active this winter. The team is still very interested in re-signing left-handed starter Randy Wolf though it seems very likely that he will test the open market. There also have been rumors regarding the Phils’ interest in Gary Sheffield, though the Phillies would not be able to have both Soriano and Sheffield without dealing Burrell.

More free agents
The Phillies have one spot open in their rotation and they want to fill it with Wolf. However, if Wolf decides he’d rather pitch for a different team, the Phillies have plenty of other options. Here’s a list of free-agent starters that could pique the team’s interest:

Jason Schmidt
Ted Lilly
Barry Zito
Mike Mussina
Gil Meche
Jason Johnson
Mark Mulder
Jamey Wright
Greg Maddux
Andy Pettitte
Shawn Chacon
Miguel Batista
Roger Clemens
Rodrigo Lopez
Chan Ho Park
Jeff Suppan

No thank you
Aaron Rowand and the Phillies each declined their options for the 2007 season. As a result, Rowand is eligible for arbitration. Rowand turned down a $3.25 million player option, while the Phillies did not pick up the $5 million club option.

Rowand joins Ryan Madson, Brett Myers, Geoff Geary and Chase Utley as the Phils' other arbitration-eligible players. The Phillies still control Rowand's rights and can either negotiate a new deal with the center fielder or take him to salary arbitration.

Unless there is a trade, it seems very unlikely that Rowand will be elsewhere in 2007.

Horn honking
Off the bat: Bryant Gumbel's Real Sports is the best sports program on TV. In fact, there is no competition and it's unfair to compare the HBO show with anything else out there.

When I get a chance to watch it, I do. Sometimes more than once.

So imagine my surprise when Mr. Gumbel's final thought to close the show touched on a lot of the same themes examined in this post.

I doubt Mr. Gumbel reads these pages, so it's probably just a coincidence and a case of a pair of sharp minds (well, he is much more sharper than me) thinking alike. But if does read this site, we're very flattered.

And his thoughts were right on the money.

Put that down

I ran with my iPod today, which can count as weight training for me. Though the little computer weighs just a few ounces, it's the most amount of weight I've carried around aside from lugging a 2½-year-old boy.

Weight training and I just don’t mix. Oh, I used to do it quite a bit back in the old days when I was younger and faster. Even this year I did pushups pretty religiously as part of my “jail house” workout. The way I figured it, my arms were moving just as much as my legs – I ought to make them strong, too.

Right?

Not anymore.

My new reluctance to lift weights and do pushups didn’t come because of some scientific evidence I read in a medical journal or something found in one of the ubiquitous Runner’s World stories about being fit that seem to be recycled from month to month. The reason is because of an interview I read a few months ago with Lance Armstrong.

Armstrong, as most people know, is a bit of a runner these days. He should be in the final days of his taper before Sunday’s New York City Marathon, but had a little bit of success as a cyclist for a few years before retiring from the sport after the 2005 Tour de France.

So what did Armstrong reveal in the interview that made me turn my dumbbells into some odd-looking furniture?

He said he didn’t lift weights.

Of course that might have changed these days. Armstrong looks pretty fit and strong on the cover of a few magazines from the past couple of months. But when he was winning the seven Tour de France races in a row, Armstrong said he never touched a weight or even thought about doing a pushup. Pushups equal muscle and muscle equals weight and weight equals slow.

Slow is no good.

Here’s the quote from the November 2006 issue of Runner’s World… wait didn’t I just make fun of that magazine? Well… never mind. Here’s Lance:

“When I rode I couldn’t do a pushup, because immediately I would have put on muscle. But I decided I don’t want to do that anymore. I’d rather have a full-body workout. So I’ve definitely put on weight, a lot of upper-body muscle weight.”

In the same interview, Armstrong reveals his taste for beer, wine and margaritas (Hey! Me too!) as well as a competitive cyclist’s penchant for big eating and for starving themselves.

“It sucks,” he said.

So that’s why I stopped lifting weights. Honestly, I can’t tell a difference between now and then in terms of my fitness although these days I don’t have pipes for arms. I have pipe cleaners.

As far as cross-training goes, I try to walk places instead of driving. When I was younger and poorer I walked and rode my bike everywhere. Something as simple as that definitely made a difference in my training and fitness. I also do sit-ups like crazy and have noticed a big difference since I started doing my sit-ups and crunches on a big fitness ball I bought in the summer.

My stretching is still sporadic and not very intense, though I think I make up for that with the weekly ART sessions. I kind of enjoy doing a basic yoga routine when I can – I have my own mat and strap and everything -- but lately I have been inconsistent with that, too.

Now that I’m starting the taper, I suppose I’ll be more consistent with the yoga.

Did I mention the taper? Yeah, I started it today. After beating myself up on Monday and running hard for too long on Tuesday, I ran just 10 miles in 64:30 on Wednesday. I did the entire run on the grass at Baker Field, which is where I plan on doing all of my runs for the next 10 days to lessen the pounding and wear and tear on my legs. I also didn’t think I was going as fast as the time indicates, but there’s nothing I can do about that.

Either I’m faster or the loops are shorter.

Shoe geek
On CNN this week, I saw photos of Castro wearing Adidas gear. Nike may have some questionable labor issues in third-world countries, but at least a brutal dictator isn’t strolling around wearing Air Jordans.

Right?

Running nugget
Stefano Baldini is the defending Olympic and World Championship champ and is running the New York City Marathon this Sunday. Here’s an interview with Baldini on the Men’s Racing site where he discusses his training with Exton, Pa’s Duncan Larkin.

Play list
Here are the songs that made it from beginning to end on my iPod during today’s easy 10-miler:

Please – U2
Touch the Sky – Kanye West
3 MC’s & 1 DJ (Live video version) – Beastie Boys
Starve – Rollins Band
Piss-Bottle Man – Mike Watt
The Wait – Metallica
Loretta’s Scars – Pavement
Debaser – Pixies
I Got You – Split Enz
Jerry Was a Race Car Driver – Primus
What’s My Name – DMX
Pretty in Pink – Social Distortion
Numb/Encore – Jay-Z/Linkin Park
You Think I Ain’t Worth a Dollar… - Queens of the Stoneage
One-Armed Scissor – At the Drive-In
Androgynous Mind – Sonic Youth

Going out on top... and able to walk

Sorry for the day off. I guess I took this bye week thing pretty seriously. Nevertheless, I have been paying a little more attention to football during the past couple days which is a relative statement. I think my ambivalence toward football goes back to those football practices when I was a kid and all the coaches did was scream, yell and carry on.

Was that supposed to motivate me? All it made me want to do was say, “Hey Coach Lombardi, I’m right here. You don’t have to shout. I guess what you are trying to say is that you want me to tackle that guy right there… yes, I can do that. That’s no problem. But in the future say it don’t spray it.”

I doubt football coaches scream like that these days. Athletes and coaches are much more evolved from the hard-assed, clichéd motivational phase. That’s especially true of professional athletes who really don’t need someone yelling at them for motivation. The paycheck does that.

Or at least it should.

But that takes us to the interesting case of Tiki Barber, the yardage-hog running back for the New York Giants. Barber, as everyone has heard or read, has decided to retire from the NFL at the end of the season. Though just 31-years old and leading the NFL in rushing yardage per game while seemingly headed into his prime in his 10th season in the league, Barber apparently believes enough is enough. There’s no sense limping out the door when he can still run.

Needless to say, Barber’s decision has rankled some people. How can Barber quit when he’s still so good and has a few more healthy years ahead of him? Isn’t he going to be a distraction to his teammates? Isn’t he letting them down?

Who does he think he is – Jim Brown?

Well, no. To all of those questions.

Make no mistake, Barber is no Jim Brown, but take that with a grain of salt because I never saw Brown play. I’ve seen a few highlight tapes but that doesn’t explain anything. What does explain things is the way people of that era talk about Jim Brown. In fact, when I was a kid and asked people my parents and grandparents age who the greatest football player of all time, everyone answered a millisecond after the words dropped out of my mouth with, “Jim Brown.”

Then they looked at me like I was crazy for even asking.

Yes, Jim Brown. Who else?

But like Tiki Barber, Jim Brown quit in his prime after just nine seasons. For the longest time Brown was the leading rusher of all time, but when it came down to reporting to camp for the 1966 season or stay and complete the filming of The Dirty Dozen.

He definitely made the right choice.

Barber probably won’t co-star in one of the top 100 thrilling movies of all time, but his plan is to seek work in television. Certainly that’s not surprising because Barber is very polished and comfortable in front of the camera. But that’s not the problem most people have.

You see, most people dreamed of becoming an professional athlete and what could be better than being the running back for the football team in the country’s largest city? But Barber says he doesn’t want to be defined by simply being a football player. There is much more to him, he says.

There lies the contradiction. Most people do not define themselves by their jobs. Instead, regular folks have hobbies or passions that drive them more than just their jobs and work. Why should people whose job is to play football be any different? Why should athletes be held to a different standard?

Why should Tiki Barber have to live out someone else’s dream?

On another note, I always found it curious that sports fans complained about the histrionics of some athletes like Deion Sanders and others who seemed to put a lot of effort into celebrating. “Just play the game and stop all that other nonsense,” went the chorus.

But there was Pete Sampras, one of the greatest three tennis players of all time, simply playing the game and winning like no one ever before. What was the consensus of Pete?

“He’s too boring.”

Not as boring as the double standard.

Come and get me

In the August 2006 issue of Outside magazine, Marc Peruzzi wrote that the hard part about living and training in Boulder, Colorado was the competition during workouts.

In most American towns, outdoor-sports aficionados are part of an elite counterculture minority. Mountain bikers and climbers have cachet. Not so in Boulder. Recreating outdoors is the norm here, and it's in your face. There's always some horse-toothed mountain-town equivalent of Laird Hamilton ready to kick your athletic pride through the dirt. Remember the 2005 Tour, when T-Mobile kept attacking Discovery, trying to break Lance? That's what a casual bike ride is like in Boulder. Strangers attack. Old guys with gray beards and steel bikes attack. Reach for a shot of Gu and even your friends attack. And women: Women always attack—they're the worst.

Even slow guys like me attack. The other day I was reeling in a pro cyclist on a brutal local climb. My heart rate was near its max, but I was feeling good. I was in the zone. Maybe four years of living in Boulder have paid some fitness dividends, I thought.
Then I figured it out: He's between intervals, and once his heart rate drops below 65 bpm, he's gone. At least he said "No offense" before he accelerated.

It doesn't matter what sport you do; you will suffer similar humiliation. Go nordic skiing in North Boulder Park and two Olympians shout "Track!" from a meter back. Climb the Flatirons only to learn that someone once ascended in Rollerblades. Get Maytagged in a hole while paddling Boulder Creek and a World Cup champion slalom kayaker will toss you a rope bag. Running? Not me, not in Boulder. Boulderites run like gazelles. Fancy yourself a mountaineer? The waiters at Sherpa's have summited Everest. But at least those guys are nice. If Reinhold Messner himself walked into south Boulder's mountaineering shop to buy a carabiner, the sales staff would give him attitude. It's enough to make you revolt against the blue sky (300 sunny days a year), pull down the blinds, and watch NASCAR.

I’m here to report that it just isn’t Boulder where this phenomenon occurs. It happens in the sleepy School Lane Hills area on Lancaster, Pa., too. Trust me, I know. Just when you are cruising along without a care in the world on an easy day, satisfied to barely break a sweat with a string of 7-minute miles with no other goals other than to get some work in, some jackass ruins it.

It’s such a pain.

During today’s recovery run after yesterday’s hard 21-miler, a woman with thighs like Erma Bombeck and a stride like Oprah as well as a college kid with Kobe shorts made runs at me. Whenever I came within sight on my loops around Baker Field, these folks lifted the knees a little higher, and pumped the arms a little faster all with the hope of taking a shot at me.

Needless to say I didn’t let it happen, which makes me wonder if I’m the one with the problem. Why can’t I just let those people go? Who cares if they run with me for a little while until they get tired and fall back? Who cares if they pass me?

Obviously, it’s me.

Simply looking to get some miles in at whatever pace felt good, I ended up running solid 6:15 pace for seven miles.

Why?

Because I didn’t want a housewife to get the idea that she was in my league? Because I wanted to teach some college punk that he needed to do some more work?

How arrogant.

Tuesday was not the first time this has happened. In fact, it’s quite routine. During runs on the Kelly and West River drive loops in Philadelphia with my friend Tom, invariably people would take runs at us and pass by. And invariably, I would always say – in a tone loud for everyone to hear – “So Tom, how long will it be when we streak by that dude when he’s sucking air.”

This summer it got to the point where I started calling people on it. Once, while finishing a 16-miler with a series of hills a woman struggling simply to draw oxygen reached the intersection of where a hill began at the same time as me. I gave her a friendly hello nod as I was about to go by her and never gave a second thought until I caught a glimpse of her in my peripheral vision. There she was huffing, puffing and going red-faced crazy trying to take me down on the hill.

I couldn’t believe it and asked her what the deal was: “Lady, are you kidding me?”

She opened her mouth to respond and all that came out was half a breath that was barely audible. That’s when I dialed up the pace, told her I’d catch her around and took off for home.

Yeah, really tough.

And yeah, there is something wrong with me.

Still, there’s nothing wrong with teasing college kids with a 6-minute surge, easing it back to 6:30 to let them close in before dropping them with a 5:45. That’s just too fun.

Anyway, I was in no mood for other runners today and got off the field and onto the roads where I could take it easy. The 14.3 miles in 1:37:28 shows that the last half of the run was done in cruise control.

Now it’s time to dial it back and rest up. Based on my morning heart rate and feeling after the past two runs, I may be toying with over-training syndrome.

Shoe geek
Yesterday’s acquisition of the Pegasus Racers got me thinking about shoes that are no longer made but should be. For instance:

* Nike Air Talaria
* Nike Zoom LWP
* The “original” adidas Ozweego with the quilted toe box
* adidas Response Trail, but not for running.

The Talaria might have been the most perfect shoe for my foot. Sadly, the folks at Nike or the running/consumer public probably saw it as not so fashionable.

Running nugget
The New York Times is piling it on. Maybe an American could win the big race this year? They seem to think it could be Meb Keflezighi is the one to break through.

Ritzenhein anyone?

Once in a lifetime

It’s hard to forget that night in the 1980s when Red Auerbach came down from his seat in the stands, rushed onto the floor where his Celtics and the 76ers were just starting a tussle – during a pre-season game no less – and jumped right into the mix.

Pushing 70 at the time, Auerbach stepped up to Moses Malone, stuck a bony finger into his chest and challenged him to a fight.

Cooler heads eventually prevailed and the 76ers and Celtics seemed to have a good laugh afterwards, but needless to say Red made his point:

Don’t mess with the Celtics.

Certainly Red messed with everyone during a career as a coach and an executive that was aptly described by NBA commission David Stern as the “most important figure in the history of the NBA.”

Often superlatives are dished out where they don’t belong. They are hyperbolic, trite and cliché. The media, it seems, always wants to anoint someone or something as the greatest this or that. My theory behind this is that people want to be close to greatness and want to be able to tell others that they were there for something extraordinary.

That’s human nature, I suppose.

But in regards to Red Auerbach, who died Saturday night just shy of his 89th birthday, Stern nailed it. Stern, as well as anyone, knows that the NBA would have likely failed in the late 1940s or early 1950s had it not been for Auerbach. Better yet, it was Auerbach’s innovation and foresight that spurred the league’s emergence from one of regionalized interest like the current NHL, to a global force.

Simply, Red Auerbach was a genius.

Fortunately, I was able to have a brush with greatness on several occasions. Auerbach and I became pen pals of sorts during my college days. A few times a year I wrote Auerbach letters asking for his opinions and advice on certain subjects mostly related to basketball. I never expected a reply and certainly never handwritten notes on his personal stationary, but every letter received a response and always with an unforgettable pearl of wisdom.

For instance, in response to questions regarding his team’s relative youthfulness, Red wrote: “… experience doesn’t mean bleep.”

He didn’t write bleep, but the point was one that I heard him espouse in interviews and books – if a guy can play, he can play. It doesn’t matter how long he’s been doing it.

Again there’s the genius of Red. Certainly his experience resulted in him picking out something in Bill Russell and Larry Bird that no one else saw. The same thing goes for Bob Cousy, Robert Parish and Kevin McHale.

Red Auerbach was once in a lifetime. Sadly, that long lifetime came to an end.

Going long

Often (relatively speaking) I’m asked what I think is the most important and/or what is my favorite workout during my buildup for a marathon. It’s a very easy question.

The long run and the long run.

Sure, there’s nothing like nailing a tempo run or speed workout well within the time goal. In fact, that’s usually when I feel the most confident and strut a little more than usual into the house post-workout.

But the long run… that’s where the important stuff happens.

Typically, the long run is defined as a 20-mile or 2-hour run, which, according to Olympic marathoner, coach and physiologist Pete Pfitzinger, going long does seven beneficial things:

* Surround your muscle fibers with capillaries.
* Shuttle oxygen with more myoglobin.
* Make mighty mitochondria.
* Increase aerobic enzyme activity.
* Fill the tank with glycogen.
* Burn more fat.
* Builds slow-twitch muscle fibers

I’m no scientist so I can’t really speak too knowledgably about what goes on internally… unless it involves our feelings.

Tear.

Seriously, what I understand about the long run is that it gives one a strong sense of accomplishment and a confidence that makes the marathon distance less daunting. Every expert and runner has their own theory regarding the what, where, and how of doing the long run. Some people do them every other week, or a certain number per training period with a bunch of well thought out reasons why.

My method for the long run is simple – every Monday.

Regardless of training cycle or the distance of the race I’m training for, I go long every Monday. Why Monday? That’s when they run Boston and it’s the first day of the week as far as I’m concerned. So for 16 of the last 18 weeks I ran 20-plus miles every Monday and for 18 of the last 19 weeks I went more than two hours at least once a week. In this regard, I think I’m strong.

Nevertheless, there won’t be a 20-miler next Monday. I’m finished with them until December or January after going 21 miles in 2:17:08 on the final Monday. The taper phase is looming and rest is the best training method at this point.

Typically, long runs are finished at an easy, but not slow, pace. Sometimes I try to go as fast as I can without exerting myself, because the important part is to do the work and not get hurt.

But this one… ugh.

Actually, that “ugh” is an overstatement. Running 21 miles wasn’t too difficult, and I breezed through the first 17 miles in 6:40 pace on the forgiving grass surface at Baker Field. But after 10 loops around the perimeter of the field, I needed a change of scenery so I took off on the hilly four-mile course for a local road race that was held in my neighborhood last March.

And by took off, I mean it.

I hammered the downhills and climbs at just a touch slower than 5k pace, finishing the loop in 23:01. That’s not bad considering that I had 17 miles in the bag to that point.

It also wasn’t smart because my left calf and hamstring started to hurt. Then my stomach started giving me trouble. Then it became a little difficult to sit or stand, so I stretched. Finally, stretching out on the couch with the remote was the best thing to do – if only I could concentrate on what was on the TV.

What the hell was I thinking? Who kicks their own ass less than two weeks before the big race?

Dumb, dumb, dumb.

Shoe geek
Since 1996 I have worn the adidas Ozweego for workouts. I don’t expect to change this any time soon as long as adidas continues to make this soft, durable and comfortable trainer. But finding a racing shoe that is both durable and light has always been difficult for me.

Oh yeah, I really liked the Nike Air Mariah. It was a basic, old-school shoe with a no-frills, clean design and an easy and cushiony feel when my heel hit the ground. But if I’m not mistaken, they stopped making that one in the mid-1990s.

Always on the lookout for a suitable replacement, I think I may have found one.

Last night I found a pair of Nike Pegasus Racers, tried them on and they seem to have the correct feel. I’ll give it a test this week and report back.

Running nugget
The New York Times is in full marathon mode with NYC just a few days away. Apparently, according to The Times, there are a lot of people training and racing in Boulder, Colorado.

Who knew?

2 weeks to go

As indicated in a previous post, I moved the running stuff to the new, running site.

It's all there, including the two-weeks to go breakdown.

Oh yeah: Technorati Profile

2 weeks to go

I’m not going to run 100 miles this week. In, fact I bet that I won’t even make it to 90 miles. Oh, I’m going to work hard and all of that good stuff, but with two weeks to go I get to rest and -- gasp! -- relax.

That last part is easier said than done, of course. It’s what makes running and runners funny – they can crank out miles week after week through cold, wind, rain, sleet and snow, but if they are told they need to dial it back just a little bit in order for all of that hard training to manifest itself on race day, that’s just too difficult to understand.

I’ve been there. I can still remember the ’98 Marine Corps Marathon when I cut it way down to 100 miles in my first taper week.

Needless to say, things didn’t go too well on race day.

So here’s the deal: I’m going to go hard on Monday, Tuesday, and maybe Wednesday before going easy and Thursday and Friday. On Saturday morning I’m going to race a 5k and will consider an off day next Sunday.

Don’t bet on that, though.

Anyway, here’s how “Blast Week” shook out:

Monday -- 24 miles in 2:48:13
Started out at 6:50 pace and picked it up to 6:35 to 6:40 pace through 13 miles. It was an easy, easy pace though it did take a tiny bit on concentration because of the hills and windy conditions. About 90-minutes in, I met up with Jeff Kirchner and I ran with him for about an hour. The pace dipped a bit, but wasn't slow. When Jeff left I ran for another 22 minutes by myself and I picked up the pace again.

Even after 2:20 I still had some turnover and could have taken the pace to 6 minutes. I also drank on the run and did well with the Gatorade and Red Bull mix. Better yet, I did not stop running once.

I think I'm strong.

Tuesday – 16.1 miles in 1:53:25
Started out slow and a little tight after a long run yesterday, but the pace improved quite a bit after I got through all the hill repeats. At the end of the run my turnover was really good and I had no trouble taking the pace fairly high.

Wednesday – 18 miles in 2:02:35
Ran pretty hard over the first 10 miles at the Brick Yards. Felt pretty strong and the pace was easy even though I was running around 6-minute miles. At the end I tied up a little bit and I slowed in the hills, but I still had the turnover.

Thursday – morning: 15.3 miles in 1:39:02
evening: 6.2 miles in 41:39
Total: 21.5 miles
Ran steady the whole time even though my right calf and hamstring were a bit sore. My 5-mile splits: 33:10; 31:57; 30:55. This run reminded me of the old days. Better yet, I wasn't even tired at the end.

In the evening, I doubled up for the first time in a long time. Definitely kept the pace brisk even though my right calf was still a little sore.

Friday – 13 miles in 1:27:10
Squeezed in 13. It was extremely easy and I hope I can add another workout tonight, but it seems unlikely with a heavy rainstorm looming. The weather hasn't been good this week. Either way, not a bad run despite the fact that I was operating on very little sleep a day after doubling up for 21.5.

Saturday – 19 miles in 2:11:59
The first hour was all hills. I did tons of repeats and then held it together the rest of the way. The hills took a bit out of me... and then there was the wind. I didn’t plan on going so long but I miscalculated with my math.

Sunday – 11.5 miles in 1:16:41
Tried to keep the pace up-tempo but not too fast. Brisk is probably the correct word. Either way, I didn't feel tired or even the slightest bit winded during the outing.

That’s 123.1 miles for the week – my most since 131 miles in mid October of 1998.

Should we talk about the weather?

Generally, I really don’t hang out with runners. Better yet, let me explain that better… I don’t hang out with runners like me, and by that I mean obsessive folks who have to complete certain workouts every day and certain mileage, etc. every week.

I hang with people who run, but not folks who base all of their training and workouts on specific times in a particular race.

People like me are weird.

Be that as it is, whenever I talk to “competitive” runners about training, race and workout times and that kind of stuff, inevitably the conversation always ends the same way: “Sounds like you’re pretty strong. You’re going to do well in (insert name of race here) if you get good weather.”

The regular runners I hang out with never talk about the weather. It’s like it doesn’t exist in the realm of running in heir viewpoint. Oh sure, they know about the weather and the change of seasons and all of that, but the idea of how it effects racing and running is lost on them. If it’s raining or if it’s too cold, they just stay in and save the workout for another day or go to the gym and run on a treadmill.

The conversation about training with my friends usually culminates with a: “Wow, you run a lot.”

Frankly, I prefer to have my ego stroked and not to worry about the weather.

But the weather is an issue for folks who train for late autumn races in the Northeast. It appeared to be an issue at this year’s Chicago Marathon, too, where the times on the lightning quick course were just a tad slower than normal. Yeah, lots of people ran well at Chicago – 44 American men qualified for the Olympic Trials in the race – but think what they could have done if the wind and temperatures had been more seasonal.

It definitely makes it frustrating when a person trains hard during the heat and humidity of the summer only to have his race messed up by windy conditions and cold air. For people like me, who need every advantage they can get just to run a respectable time, the weather is that much more of a factor.

That’s why I’m hoping the spate of coolish temps and high, driving winds is just one of those crazy snaps in the system. Hopefully, the weather is getting the rain and wind out of its system now so it will be 55 degrees with no wind and overcast skies on Nov. 12 in Harrisburg, Pa. Yeah, I expect some wind since part of the race course rolls past the mighty Susquehanna River on the way around City Island, but as long as it’s manageable…

Today the wind was manageable simply because I’m used to it now. The steady 25-m.p.h. gusts had little effect except for a few areas where there were no trees, houses or building to block the air. Better yet, the mid-40 degree wind chills were kind of refreshing. When the wind was pushing me off the road or blowing directly into my face, the crisp, nip air was perfect. It made me remember that hot and humidity stretch in late July and early August when I had to do all of my running at night.

Today I knifed through the wind like a low 2-iron shot for my typical, easy Sunday for a steady and solid 11½ miles in 1:16:41. Though I ran the first 8-plus miles faster than 6:30 per mile pace, I didn’t worry about anything other than enjoying the run. I even took my iPod with me, which is something I do when I don’t care about my focus.

Either way, it wasn’t a bad way to spend an hour on a Sunday.

Running nugget
Catherine Ndereba, or as she is better known, "Catherine the Great," is in New York City for next Sunday's marathon. The Times caught up with her at an appearance at a school, where the Kenyan who often trained in nearby Valley Forge, entertained the kids.

How good is the NYC Marathon going to be this year? Catherine the Great vs. Deena Kastor in the women's race and the deep American field with Baldini and Tergat in the men's race...

Wow!

ART of the deal

Cole Hamels was an injury waiting to happen, I wrote repeatedly during the first half of the 2006 baseball season. In a blog and in regular-styled writing, a stint on the disabled list was inevitable, I mused.

Why not? Throughout his professional baseball career, the delicate left-hander never completed a full season. Injuries to his back, arm and hand always seemed to be lurking despite the once-in-a-lifetime talent the 22-year old had.

But after 23 starts following his call-up from the minors, Hamels never got hurt. His first full and complete professional season came as a Major Leaguer. His chronic back trouble, as well as his arm, elbow, hand and everything else held up under the rigors of a tough season in which the Phillies were in the playoff chase until the bitter end. Oh sure, he did a two-week stint on the disabled list and missed two starts, but that was strictly a precaution. In retrospect, Hamels said, he didn’t need to go on the disabled list.

So in September, after Hamels turned in another winning late-season outing, I asked the kid what the deal was. How was he able to keep himself healthy and from breaking down after struggling with injuries since high school? After all, it was the history of injuries that kept Hamels from being selected with one of the top handful of picks in the 2002 draft instead of falling to 17th. Finally, after all this time Hamels was recovering well enough to be dependable.

What was the deal?

Part of it was an improved diet rich with organic fruits and vegetables, no alcohol, regular massages as well as regular chiropractic adjustments. But the coup de grace was the active release technique (ART) treatments that Hamels said he received twice a week.

Suddenly a light bulb went off. Active release, huh?

I had recently been informed about ART a few weeks prior from a chiropractor who referred me to the web site, which defines ART as, “a patented, state of the art soft tissue system/movement based massage technique that treats problems with muscles, tendons, ligaments, fascia and nerves. Headaches, back pain, carpal tunnel syndrome, shin splints, shoulder pain, sciatica, plantar fasciitis, knee problems, and tennis elbow are just a few of the many conditions that can be resolved quickly and permanently with ART. These conditions all have one important thing in common: they are often a result of overused muscles.”

Plus, if it worked for someone as “delicate” as Hamels, why couldn’t it work for someone like me… you know, because I’m so tough.

In a nutshell, the theory is that the layers of muscles form adhesions that can produce scar tissue to an affect area. According to the official ART web site, as scar tissue builds up, muscles become shorter and weaker, tension on tendons causes tendonitis, and nerves can become trapped. This can cause reduced range of motion, loss of strength, and pain.

To free up the muscles and tendons (my word) and alleviate the adhesions, a series of soft-tissue massage and stretching movements are preformed by the chiropractor.

When I developed something others referred to as “runner’s knee,” and regular massage and chiropractic adjustments didn’t lessen the pain, I figured it was time for ART after talking to Hamels.

It’s a good thing, too, because a few months later – after a weekly session with my chiropractors who also work on a bunch of well-known NFL and NHL players – I have not missed a day of running. In fact, my training is much more consistent, my recovery is better than ever and my knee hasn’t hurt ever again.

Better yet, my chronic calf and hamstring soreness is much more manageable. After a week of hard running I typically show up at my sessions with my achy calves and hammys and am as good as new within 20 minutes.

It’s pretty amazing.

No, my consistency and health is not all because of ART. I eat better and pay much more attention to my recovery than in the past, but my flexibility is better and I haven’t had to worry about injuries.

That’s pretty important.

After Friday afternoon’s ART session, I didn’t feel any discomfort in my hamstrings when I sat down. The muscle spasms in my calves were gone, too. Because of this refreshed feeling, I decided Saturday afternoon would be the perfect time for a hill workout. Speed would have been preferable, as in a race or something like that, but high winds and steady made such a plan a battle on Saturday morning. The point of the training is to get strong and fast, and not to beat myself up in the rain and wind.

So I headed for the hills on Saturday, doing climbs and descents on every substantial hill I could find for the first 61 minutes of the run. And no doubt there were plenty of hills on my regular routes through the neighborhood and its outskirts – I suppose that’s the luxury of living in an area called School Lane Hills.

Nevertheless, I ran extra repeats up and down the hills I run regularly and then ran three circuits on North School Lane between Wheatland and Marietta avenues. After the 61 minutes I was legitimately whipped – so beat that I felt a little weak in the knees when I stopped for a quick drink about 12 miles into the outing.

Because of that I took it easy on the back portion of the run, skipping my regular hills in attempt to keep some semblance of pace on the gently rolling roads back to my house.

But that’s also where it got tricky, too. Figuring I was just a few meters short of running 18 miles, I took the wrong way around on the back loop to home. That’s when I looked at my watch and realized that I was either running very, very slow or the loop was longer than I thought.

It was longer.

Final stats: 19 miles in 2:11:59

Despite the tiredness from the hills, I ran miles 12 to 15 in 19:40 as well as one of those miles in 6:27. That’s not blazing, but quick enough for the workout I was doing.

Maybe it’s the ART? Better yet, it was probably the tailwind that pushed me across the Harrisburg Pike stretch near F&M.

Running nugget
Paul Tergat still wants to run fast. At least that’s what a story in The New York Times indicates.

We can't see you

If the Eagles play a game and nobody is able to watch it, does it make a sound?

In other words, here in Lancaster, Pa. -- just 60 miles from Center City as the crow flies -- the Eagles game is not on TV. Nope, it wasn't "blacked out," nor was there a technical glitch. Simply, it was not broadcast in this area.

This is despite the Eagles thinking that Lancaster was fertile enough ground for their fandom to open one of their Eagles' Stores in the touristy row of strip malls outlining the outer edge of Lancaster proper and the Amish/tourist zone. This is also despite the notion that Lancasterians believe their town is a de facto suburb of Philadelphia and within the Philly media market.

But the reason for the Eagles snub of the Lancaster viewing area isn't because the cable company or TV networks are mean or have it out for the good folks in the Garden Spot. It's simply the fault of geography, which can be a kick in the pants sometimes.

You see, CBS is the network in charge of carrying the Eagles game vs. Jacksonville on Sunday. Unfortunately, the TV station in Lancaster -- WGAL -- is an NBC affiliate. The CBS affiliate is in York or Harrisburg, which just over the Susquehanna River from Lancaster, is technically the Baltimore viewing market. That means the affiliate is bound by the NFL's rules and regulations to show the Ravens-Saints game.

See, what did I tell you about geography?

The funny thing is that Baltimore is closer to most of Lancaster. In fact, a drive from my house to Camden Yards/Inner Harbor is much easier and quicker to make than one to Philadelphia... not to mention much more pleasant than battling traffic on the Schuylkill or Blue Route.

Yet there is no real connection with Baltimore here. Sure, there are a handful of Orioles' fans, but they seem to have diminished considerably during the Angelos reign in the so-called Charm City. The Ravens? What are they? Where did they come from and what happened to the Colts?

The football team in that city is called the Baltimore Colts. You know, Johnny Unitas, Art Donovan, Don Shula, Lenny Moore, Bert Jones, Gino Marchetti, Earl Morrall and Raymond Berry. The name and colors should have remained locked up in Memorial Stadium when the Irsay's packed up that Mayflower truck and snuck out of town in the middle of the night.

The Baltimore Ravens still have a USFL feel to them, and yeah, I know they won the Super Bowl a few years ago. The opposing quarterback in that game, Kerry Collins, is a former basketball and football standout in the Lancaster-Lebanon League.

Lancaster is Eagles and Phillies country, and it used to be the pre-season home for the 76ers, whose training camp was held at Franklin & Marshall College. Nevertheless, that doesn't do anything for the folks who are bummed out that they cannot watch the local football team on Sunday afternoon.

So what's the remedy? Maybe the NFL can start broadcasting their games on the Internet like every other major and minor sports league? Or, better yet, maybe they can allow the local affiliates to decide on their own which games they want to televise to their viewers?

Then again, it's Sunday. Turn off the tube and hang out with the family.

It's all over!

I love the playoffs. I just can’t get enough of it and it will be a drag now that they’re over. Without baseball, sports’ watching on TV reaches its hibernation phase for me. Oh sure, I’ll head out and forage for nourishment every so often, especially when it comes to Big 5 basketball, but for the most part sports viewing is for work.

That means the next time channel 25 (ESPN in these parts) appears on my cable box, the weather will be warmer and the Phillies will be ready to head north.

Seriously, does anyone think I’m going to spend any time watching Chris Berman?

Anyway, the final baseball game of the year revealed a little bit about the Tigers, Jim Leyland, Jeff Weaver, the Cardinals and Kenny Rogers.

Oh yeah?

Well…

It’s a shame when a manager cannot use his best pitcher because the players’ psyche is so fragile that he will not be able to handle the pressure, catcalls or other difficulties of pitching on the road. Leyland would have preferred to use Kenny Rogers and put his 22-inning scoreless innings streak on the line in an elimination game, but he didn’t think Rogers could handle pitching on the road.

Really?

Better yet, Leyland had to map out his post-season rotation so that Rogers only had to pitch at Comerica Park.

Could you imagine Curt Schilling or Pedro Martinez not pitching at Yankee Stadium during the 2004 ALCS because they were too delicate?

Then again, Rogers was the guy who attacked a camera man and pump his fist and carried on as if he just got the last out of the World Series following every out during the playoffs. ESPN's Bill Simmons wrote this about Rogers:

Back to Rogers: Does anyone else believe that he planted that brown stuff on his left hand to deflect attention away from the fact that he fits every possible profile of a steroids/greenies guy? I mean, let's say you just returned from a three-week safari in Africa and I told you, "Yo, there's this veteran pitcher in his early 40s with a storied track record for choking in big games, only now he's working on a 22-inning scoreless streak in October and punctuating each start by screaming after every out and stomping around like a crazy homeless guy trying to clear out a bus stop?" Wouldn't your first thought be, "What's he taking?" Instead, we're worried about some mud on his hand? Somebody make this guy pee in a cup, please.

Hmmm?

Jeff Weaver's breaking pitches were pretty darned good in Game 5. Better yet, Weaver's outing might have earned him a fairly big contract contract this winter, which is pretty good for a pitcher with the worst regular-season ERA (5.76) to win a clinching game in the World Series.

Not bad for a guy bounced out of New York, Detroit, Los Angeles and then designated for assignment in July with the Angels so the team could create a spot for his little brother.

Enough of the La Russa as genius stuff. First, he's just a baseball manager. Just like Charlie Manuel.

La Russa didn't outsmart anyone or himself during the playoffs. He didn't second-guess himself or mull over decisions to the point where he turned smart baseball moves into issues of national importance. Simply, La Russa put his players in the position to perform well.

That's his job.

Though his batting order was different every night, La Russa didn't get too tricky during the World Series or NLCS. When he "benched" Scott Rolen, La Russa said it wasn't for any reason other than the All-Star wasn't swinging well and needed a break.

The result: a 10-game hitting streak in which Rolen went 13-for-37 (.351) with five extra-base hits and nine runs scored. During the World Series, Rolen would have been the MVP if he had driven in a couple more RBIs than the two he collected.

Hopefully no one forget about how good Detroit's Sean Casey was in the World Series. His .529 average (9-for-17) and 1.000 slugging during the series kind of got lost in the shuffle.

Finally, Jayson Stark wrote that the Cardinals are the best 83-win team in baseball history. That kind of makes one wonder where the Phillies would have rated amongst baseball's 85-win teams had they made the playoffs.

Guess we'll never know.

Game 5: World Champs

Adam Wainwright, a rookie, entered the ninth for Jeff Weaver to close it out. Wainwright was born in 1981 so he was alive the last time the Cardinals won it. He was nearly 14 months old, but he may have caught an inning here or there on the tube.

Wainwright got an assist when Magglio Ordonez’s liner nicked his glove and trickled to Ronnie Belliard at second, who threw sidearm to Pujols at first.

The kid looks composed even though he has just 63 big-league games under his belt after taking over the closer’s role when Jason Isringhausen went out with an injury in September. Interestingly, Wainwright saved just three games in the regular season and three more in the playoffs before entering Game 5. The game just might be his last save chance, too, since it’s likely that Wainwright will be a starter in 2007 and Isringhausen will return to his job.

Either way it wasn’t easy for the kid, who allowed a one-out double to the white-hot Sean Casey. But when he jammed Ivan Rodriguez to get him to nudge one back to him, Wainwright seemed to give the biggest exhale in Busch Stadium after Albert Pujols gloved the throw to first.

Should it be fitting that Placido Polanco could have made the last out? When he was with the Phillies, Polanco always spoke so fondly of his days with the Cardinals. One could tell that he wished that he had never left St. Louis. Rheal Cormier and Mike Timlin were the same way.

But Polanco is a wise man. He’ll overcome his 0-for-17 in the World Series. Who knows, maybe he’ll bounce back like Scott Rolen did after his oh-fer in 2004. Either way, his two-out walk brought the go-ahead run to the plate. One swing from Brandon Inge could turn around not just the game, but also the entire series. Inge could become Dave Henderson or Mookie Wilson in 1986…

Instead he’s the third out when Wainwright rushed the fastball by him.

The 2006 season is over. Pitchers and catchers report to Clearwater on February 15.

Post script
David Eckstein, on the strength of a four-hit game in Game 4, was named MVP. Rolen was likely second or third in the balloting, but that doesn't matter. Like Curt Schilling, Terry Francona, Darren Daulton and Jim Eisenreich, Rolen left Philadelphia to get his ring.