First, I gave it my best at the gym this morning, rocking out Rachel Cosgrove's Base Phase B workout (I feel stronger already!) and getting my day off to a great start. I ate healthy all day and got a lot of errands done.
But most of all, I gave 1 foot of my hair to Pantene Beautiful Lengths, which makes wigs for women with cancer.
See my sad ponytail, all shorn from my head?
I've done this a few times in the past, and every time I've cried. This time, I managed not to cry - in fact, I was somewhat pleased with the results. My hair had become far too long lately, and I had been planning to donate for a while but couldn't get the nerve up to do it.
But now that it's done... I kind of miss it. I got home and tried styling my hair a few different ways. I had asked the stylist to stick with mostly a blunt cut, with just a bit of angling. It's important that I look totally professional for work, so I didn't want to end up with anything kooky. Unfortunately, I think we went a bit too far in the other direction - my hair is so staid and conservative that I feel like I need to wear my pearls all day every day just to fit in with the look. I took three pictures, trying to figure out what would make it look more casual and perhaps appropriate to go out to a bar with friends - but I basically look like a diplomat's wife in all of them.
Tips? What on earth am I going to do to look fun for New Year's parties?
In good news, it's long enough to stick it in a ponytail and go to the gym!
With my mom coming to town for Christmas, I thought it would be fun to pick up some DVDs for "movie nights" while she was here. Browsing the shelf, I found -Prairie Home Companion - I grew up listening to the actual radio show with my mom many nights, but neither of us had seen the movie -Time Travelers Wife - I had read the book but never seen the movie; my mom had done neither but I thought she might like it -Season 6 of Gilmore Girls - I was always the same age as Rory, and started watching this with my mom in high school. It was neat to progress at the same pace as Rory/Lorelei, and have their big moments match my own! We continued watch even when I was in college, calling each other after the show to discuss -Fitness with the Pros, with Alec Mazo & Edyta Sliwinska - which of these things is not like the other?
My mom and I went pretty far through the Gilmore Girls DVD, since it was easy to have it in the background while cooking our Christmas feast. However, we didn't touch either of the first two, preferring to finally get to see Up in the Air. In the first ten minutes, I was eagerly pointing out all Ryan Bingham's travel tips and saying "see, I told you so!", referencing the times we've traveled together and she's been more like Natalie while I teach her the way to get through travel quickly. I kept predicting what he would correct, and I was always right. So the feeling was, "OMG, this is my life!" Unfortunately, as the movie progressed, it became kind of depressing - more like, "OMG, this is my life! Uh oh..." :(
But I digress. I didn't come on here to write about my woes of the loneliness of business travel; I wanted to write a quick review of Fitness With the Pros.
First, I should caveat by noting that I didn't do the whole DVD. It's broken out into three levels: low impact (for those who are new to dance), medium impact (a slightly more challenging workout at a faster pace than the low impact), and high impact (a challenging cardio workout for the fitness minded). While I originally planned to try high impact, I thought instead I'd try medium but skip the intro where you learned the steps. After all, I used to be a dancer; besides, I usually find DVD dance workouts to be terribly boring and basic.
Not in this case! There were more than a few occasions where I wished I had done the instructions. That said, it probably wasn't so much a problem with my dance skills as it was the camerawork. Awful, just awful! I suppose you were supposed to learn the moves in the intro (and there was a handy dandy little "help" button that would pop up, theoretically allowing you to go to that learning step and resume play of the routine later, though I didn't try that), but the camera would annoyingly switch to closeups of the dancers' faces when they would do a new step for the first time - making it impossible to pick up until it finally zoomed out.
The three segments included were the Cha-Cha, which was pretty good; the Samba, which was terrible; and the Jive, which I loved. The Cha-Cha was like your average dance fitness DVD, and I was surprised to see that my heart rate got up a bit doing it. The third segment, the Jive, was pretty awesome because it involved lots of hopping/jumping and really got your heart rate pumping; plus, the moves were the easiest to pick up, and it was fun! It was the second segment that really killed the DVD for me.
The Samba segment was the most guilty of zooming in to the faces and not letting you see the dance. I have never understood this. I know that cameramen and directors want to be creative and not just keep the same wide-angle shot for everything, but really, in a dance DVD, I don't need creativity - I need to be able to see the steps and follow along. Furthermore, it became clear in this segment that the music was somehow recorded separately from the video - there was a good five minutes in the middle of the segment where the music was totally off the steps, and it became really difficult to follow along when you had to dance off the beat (and not even at the same tempo) in order to be in sync with the dancers on screen. Really tough!
One nice thing about this DVD was that each segment was only 10 minutes long - so if you're really pressed for time, you could do just one or two segments or do some in the morning and some at night. There was a little stretching routine included at the end of each segment, too, which provided a nice break and gives this a little bit of an interval feel instead of an all-out workout for 30 minutes.
However, another con came up in the stretching when I realized she didn't have us stretch evenly. For example, while doing lunges, we started on the left leg and switched back and forth, but ended on the left leg too. We missed the right side! And at the very end of the DVD, while doing straddle splits, we stretched to the left but never went to the right. Fortunately, that one was the very last stretch, so I just continued stretching to the right on my own while the DVD ended.
I think I'd like to give the high impact workout a try, to see what I'm missing, but so far I'm not super impressed with this DVD. It falls prey to a lot of the common flaws of dance fitness DVDs, but some of them can be mitigated in the ways I suggested (i.e., learn the steps beforehand so you can do them even if you can't watch or you can do them on your own when they're out of sync, and add in your own stretches to cover what they miss).
First of all, hope everyone had a very merry Christmas! I'm working on a race report from Saturday's Christmas Marathon/Half. But rather than keep you waiting, here's what's new today...
After reading Rachel Cosgrove's Female Body Breakthrough, I've become very intrigued by the "strength more, cardio less" approach to weight loss. Rachel's reasoning seems pretty sound, and makes sense with my own anecdotal evidence (i.e., I could run a marathon every weekend and my body still wouldn't look as fantastic as you'd think). Today, I decided to actually give her plan a try, heading down to the gym for my first strength-only workout.
It felt weird at first to bypass the rows of treadmills and ellipticals. Since I'd eventually like to try both P90X and Crossfit, both of which require insane amounts of pullups, I started with something not on the program: assisted pullups and dips. Taking Rachel's advice, though, I set the resistance to a level where I could only do 5 reps at that particular weight. It felt amazing to put that little assistance on! I'm used to doing around a level 13-15 (which meant I'd only be lifting/dipping about 30-40 pounds of my body weight), but today I was able to do 6-9 (equivalent to lifting/dipping about 80-90 pounds of my body weight). Wow, couldn't believe I could push myself like that!
From there, I dove into Rachel's "Base Phase A" workout, which consisted of 2-3 sets of 10-12 reps of Bird Dog, Forward Ball Roll, Stepup, Three-Point Dumbbell Row, Partial Co-contraction Lunge, Incline Pushup, Hip-Thigh Extension, and Bent-Over Reverse Fly. In a very un-Laura-like move, when I got back up to my apartment I decided to start keeping a log of the amount of weight I used for each exercise - I figure it will be a good way to track my progress and look back and see what I've gained. The notable points of today: -Managed to do the stepup (basically stepping up onto a 2 foot high block and extending your back leg behind you) with 10 pounds of weight in each hand. This would have been hard enough with just my body weight; very proud of myself for adding an extra 20 lbs. -Did the dumbbell rows steadily increasing the weights with each set, until doing the last set with 25 pounds in each hand!!! I don't think I've ever lifted with weights that heavy so far. It helped that there were a bunch of guys in the gym who looked at me funny every time I went for the main free weight rack instead of just using the foofy rubber-coated brightly-colored light dumbbells of 8 pounds or fewer. That's right, bring on the 25 pounders! -Finally, I tacked on a few exercises from her "Base Phase B" program, including Overhead Squat, Lateral Raise with External Rotation, and Single-Leg Single-Arm Romanian Deadlifts. I did the deadlifts with 15 pounds in each hand and felt really challenged by the wobbliness of doing them on one leg... but I think I can do more weight in the future.
Has anyone else tried Rachel Cosgrove's workouts? I am really thrilled with this plan and hoping I will be super sore in the morning!
This week, I changed up my hotel. Thanks to a great rate on Travelzoo, I decided to check out the W Hotel Washington DC - a chic little place one block away from the White House.
When I first walked in, it seemed like tourist central! I'm very used to my usual hotel that's nearly all business travelers, so this was a different scene. Furthermore, instead of a staid lobby with classical Christmas music playing in the background (which is what I've become accustomed to), I found that the W was "bumping," as my friend Kristen would say. Its lobby was a combination bar/lounge that was encouraging all kinds of people to hang out instead of just the usual business travelers trying to drink away their clients' problems :)
When I headed upstairs, I was first impressed with how wide the plum-colored hallways were, with their sumptuous carpeting and dark mahogany trim. Purple has become one of my favorite colors in decorating, because it perfectly pulls off the combo of being elegant and trendy. However, I was less impressed by the size of my room - it was smaller than my (tiny) New York bedroom at home! I was especially surprised about this given the fact that I'm an "elite" member and they had told me they were giving me an upgrade - if this was how small the upgraded room was, I couldn't imagine how small a standard must be! But while the size of the room made it difficult to find a spot for my suitcase where I wouldn't trip over it (never mind doing any kind of workout in my room), I did admire the color scheme and decor - that was the look I had wanted in my apartment when I redecorated, but I ended up going light and airy instead of chic and sophisticated.
(Colors on this are not really true to form - check out this pic on the W website for a better idea of how gorgeous the purple and white bed was, and the chair was almost the same color)
But now the true test of any hotel, at least for me: how is the gym?
Like the rooms, not huge - at least not nearly as big as my usual hotel in DC. However, I've learned that with hotels, the size of the gym means very little - it's all about the equipment and the hours.
"Sweat" at the W (yes, they give it a trendy name) is a 24 hour gym - fabulous! My job often entails some late nights and early mornings, so I like to have the flexibility to work out whenever I want. Plus, as I mentioned before, the room was far too small to work out in if it wasn't a normal gym time (though I did manage to do a few segments of the Exhale Core Fusion DVD on the in-room DVD player). And there was a lot of floor space in case I did want to do some body weight or core stuff I'd normally do in my room.
The next consideration that mattered to me was availability of equipment. At my usual hotel, it's packed from about 5am-7am, which is as long as I ever have to work out (and I am not getting up at 4:30am to beat the rush!). Here, there was one other person in there both times I visited (once in the morning, once at night). Pretty comfortable!
Now, let's talk about the equipment. After staying in a miserable Sheraton whose entire stock consisted of two bikes, two treadmills, two ellipticals, and a chest press machine (really tough to get in a strength workout when that's all you have), I don't take a set of free weights for granted anymore. This gym had a great set, plus two versatile Bowflex-like machines where you can change the handles/heights. One cool thing about the Bowflex-y machines was that they had been setup with a long pullup bar going across - perfect if you're a Crossfitter or P90Xer! There was also a boxing punch bag and a few sets of boxing gloves; I didn't end up trying this out, but now I wish I had.
The cardio equipment was similarly excellent: three treadmills, two ellipticals, a wave, and two bikes, all of which had personal TVs. But wait, hold up - what was that third piece of equipment? That's right, the gym had the amazing Technogym Cardio Wave, which I had first seen featured on FitSugar a few years ago but had never had the fortune to try. I didn't find it nearly as difficult as many reviews mentioned, and I ended up Googling it afterward to see if there were any tips I was missing (see number 3 on this list). Learning the different positions was helpful, but I didn't feel nearly as out of breath as I do from a good interval session on either the elliptical or the treadmill. Two days later, I did feel a bit of soreness in my legs/butt, but I attribute that more to the awesome gluteus sculpt segment of the Exhale Core Fusion DVD I did.
Finally, some neat perks to point out, which didn't really impact my workout that much but certainly made for a more luxurious gym experience: -A mini fridge full of bottled Fiji water (in case the purified water cooler wasn't posh enough for you) -Earbud headphones in tiny silk baggies like wedding favors (in case you didn't bring your headphones and still wanted to watch the individual TVs) -Bliss spa body wipes (in case you didn't have time for a shower) -A bowl of fresh Granny Smith apples (for a post-workout snack)
Overall, I was definitely impressed by the "Sweat" component of the W. I wish the actual rooms were a little bit bigger, but the gym was fantastic enough to make up for it. My only regret about the gym was that I was supposed to meet up with Reader Greta for a cardio session, but ended up going home early and having to cancel, so she never got to experience the wonders of the Wave. Furthermore, key cards are required to get in, so you can't just sneak in and give it a try. Sorry, Greta!
Finally, let's not forget the final component of an Absolut(ly) Fit hotel review: the fabulous rooftop bar, called POV. It was trendy and lounge-y, with very dark lighting, but that only enhanced the gorgeous views of the Washington Monument.
The scene at POV seemed to be exactly my kind of place: despite being elegant, it wasn't at all snobby, and while I stuck with my coworker, the people there seemed to be "my kind of people." The drinks were a bit pricey at $15/cocktail, but more than made up for it with their unusual and delicious combinations (like the Da-Curry, made with curry infused rum, sugar, fresh lemon juice, and bitters). Tasty!
Ultimately, I'd be a bit torn in deciding between staying at the W again or going back to my usual hotel, simply due to the room size. However, since I had found a special rate here and this normally doesn't fit under our preferred vendors, the choice isn't really mine to make. If there's another special rate, I'll probably give it a try just to mix things up a bit, but I think a lot of what I liked about this hotel was more form than function.
Top three best things about the hotel: 1. Amazing rooftop bar with my new favorite drink (called the "#9", it's made with cinnamon Stoli, sweet vermouth, and lemon ginger beer) and great views of the Washington Monument 2. Fabulous bath products from Bliss (including some body butter that I ended up calling Service Express to get more of) 3. Great gym with unique equipment, cool perks, and plenty of room to workout
Top three worst things about the hotel: 1. Teeny tiny room size - no workouts in there 2. Unhealthy room service menu - basically nothing salvageable, though I've learned to just order takeout from Seamless Web instead of bothering with room service these days 3. Caters more to tourist clientele than business travelers - though I suppose that can be a positive if I'm ever sick of meeting corporate-types like myself :)
My friends and family know that I'm a very conscientious person. When I make a mistake, I tend to feel extremely guilty about it for a long time after, and it acts as a constant reminder that I shouldn't repeat the mistake again.
As it applies to dieting, this means I often go against one of the cardinal problems a lot of dieters have. Many people complain that when they mess up and go off their diet, it tends to derail them for the rest of the day, the rest of the week, etc. They wait until some predetermined time to "restart" their diet, thinking it will be easier if they do everything perfectly right from that self-appointed start time. Meanwhile, they spend the rest of the day pigging out because they've already realized they're not going to get their metaphorical gold star for the day, so why not indulge?
All the dieting gurus tell you not to fall into that trap. If you fall off the horse, get right back on and keep going. I do understand that tendency to just binge the rest of the day and start fresh in the morning - after all, I'm a total procrastinator and a perfectionist to boot - but in this case, it just doesn't apply.
One morning last week, I found myself tempted by the cookies someone had brought into the break room of our office. There were boxes and boxes of them, all open, all tempting me. Even though it was only 9am and I had just eaten breakfast, I couldn't resist - and snagged an 80 calorie macadamia nut cookie.
The funny thing is, 80 calories is really not that big a deal. It's only a few more than eating an apple, which I regularly snack on at the office (though yes, I realize an apple is a lot healthier than a processed and full of lard cookie). However, something about that indulgence triggered my guilt reflex, and I felt so bad about the poor choice I had made that it spurred me to eat extra healthfully for the rest of the day. Sandwich at lunch? No, I had that cookie earlier - better stick with salad. Cocktails at our team dinner? I really shouldn't; I already indulged on the cookie.
By the end of the day, I had come to realize that eating that cookie was probably a blessing in disguise - it had encouraged me to make smarter choices the rest of the day because I already felt like I had indulged with my cookie. Otherwise, I might have had lots of little treats all day long that would have added up to much more than that little cookie.
On the other hand, last night I went to bed very early (by 10:30pm), and got up at 6am to work out. I did 30 minutes on "The Wave" (a new cardio machine at my hotel of the week - expect another post on this to come) and worked up a really good sweater. Afterward, I walked to work instead of taking a cab (about a mile), and grabbed a healthy breakfast on the way. Doing so well made me not want to "mess up" and go off course - so there's some merit to that as well. (Then again, we have a team dinner tonight at which I very well may end up getting derailed by bread, appetizers, drinks, and dessert - fingers crossed!)
So what do you all think - if I can't get in a morning workout, should I go on a new "cookie diet" and start every day with a big old chocolate chipper, which will then guilt me into making all good choices the rest of the day? :) And which way do you lean - if you indulge in the morning, will you eat better the rest of the day to make up for it, or worse because you'll consider the day a dieting wash?
P.S. The ironic twist here is that unlike the rest of you whose beautiful holiday baking I've seen pictured on your blogs, I was too busy and skipped the cookie baking this year. Drop me a line if you want to mail me some of yours!
***This is part 3 of a delayed race report from November 7, when I ran the New York City Marathon as a pacer/coach for tennis pro Justin Gimelstob. For part one, click here; for part two, click here.***
Really left you hanging with that last part of the race report, huh? Don't worry, I turned part 3 around quickly - stay tuned for the exciting conclusion!
After a grueling final few miles and just a few steps over the finish line, Justin collapsed on top of me. Now, if you're loyal readers who checked out the New York Times article and other press about Justin and I doing the race, you know that Justin is a pretty big guy. A lot of the articles focused on his height and weight, and the fact that this wasn't some pro athlete who was going to have it easy out there - Justin is a pretty big guy. Under normal circumstances, I'd have trouble supporting his weight; after pushing myself extremely hard in the last few miles of the full marathon, it was nearly impossible.
Lucky for me, medical staff was there in a flash. Trained to watch for people who are having problems at the finish, they quickly took control of the situation. As it turned out, Justin wasn't unconscious (close, but not quite), so he was able to talk to the medics. While they were calling for a stretcher, he told them that he didn't need a stretcher, he just needed an IV with fluids and that he was extremely dehydrated. While they argued back and forth, I was still staggering under Justin's weight and trying to make myself heard in the din of the finish line. "Um, can someone start by taking him off me?"
A few medics finally responded, taking Justin and easing him into a waiting wheelchair as he continued to protest. However, he didn't protest for long - once into the chair, he did pass out. As I looked on in horror and tried to figure out what I could do to help, the medical staff called for a stretcher and a golf cart to get him over to the medical tents for help. As they eased him down, I grabbed as many of his possessions as I could (the picture of Wernick, his iPod, etc), then hopped on the front of the cart with the driver. We sped away from the finish, over the bumpy ground of the Sheep's Meadow to pull up to the medical tent, where Justin was quickly taken inside and I was left to wait.
First, I called Cary to let her know where we were and have her get the rest of the family there. I warned her that it would probably be really difficult to get there - we were on the inside the park, just adjacent to the finish line, so I didn't know if they'd be able to cross the race and get to the seemingly restricted area. Once that was complete, I tried calling my mom to let her know, but couldn't get through. Probably better that she didn't worry, anyway.
Now that Cary and family were on the way, I tried to get into the medical tent for an update on how Justin was doing - no can do. The NYRR doesn't allow anyone into the medical tents, including immediate family numbers. Instead, I was instructed to stay outside and just call a hotline for updates. I found this a bit ridiculous - I was about 10 feet away from Justin, separated only by a bit of tarp, and yet I was supposed to call an 800 number to get updates on how he was doing? I understand that the tent could get crowded if every person's family was trying to come in, but it seemed to me that they could have had a better system than an 800 number that might or might not be updated promptly.
But ignoring that for the time being, I was freezing cold and thirsty. I hadn't gotten far enough into the finish chute to get a heat sheet or water (or a medal, for that matter). When I first asked the volunteers at the door to the medical tent for those two necessities, they at first turned me away; however, when I pointed out that they might soon have to admit me to the tent for dehydration and hypothermia, they handed over a few mini Dasani bottles and a heat sheet. Thanks!
The water helped a lot with my thirst issue, but the heat sheet wasn't that effective - instead, I tried to just stand in the sun to get some extra warmth. It wasn't long before Cary and Justin's family arrived on the scene, and I gratefully let Justin's brother do the talking in trying to gain access to the medical tent. The rest of the family thanked me for all I had done in getting Justin to the finish line (which of course made me feel awful that he was now ill), and chatted with me about the race.
While waiting, I realized that neither Justin nor I had received medals - we had exited the finish area right over the line, way before we reached the volunteers handing out medals. Knowing this would be important to Justin, I headed back to the finish line to try to procure a medal for each of us. I was a bit worried about how to do this, since I knew that just going up to a volunteer and asking for two medals wasn't likely to fly, since they wouldn't have the authority to flout the rules and give me two, even though my excuse about Justin being in medical was true. Instead, I opted for the stealth approach - I took one medal, kept it in my hand and then buried my hand in the folds of my heat sheet, then went to another volunteer to get a second medal around my neck. Done! And had the added bonus of giving me a rush from my trickery, even though I really wasn't doing anything wrong by getting a medal for Justin. I hadn't counted on the difficult part of my covert operation being getting back to medical, but swimming upstream in the sea of runners turned out to be tough, particularly with volunteers all telling me I had to turn around and couldn't go back to the finish. Again, though, I found an easy solution - just keep going, ignoring the volunteers trying to correct me, and go where I needed to go.
When I got back to the medical tent, Justin's brother had just returned from the tent. We learned that Justin was fine - just dehydrated, as Justin had tried to tell us. It would still be a little while before he was released, but at least we knew he would be okay.
In the meantime, I engaged in a bit of star spotting: Ryan Sutter (from the Bachelor) was emerging from the medical tent with his wife, Trista. Ryan had run the marathon (and, I learned later, finished with a super speedy time of 3:20) and apparently had been admitted to the medical tent after his own finish - guess that's just the thing for celebrities to do :) He looked okay when I saw him though, and he and Trista seemed pretty happy with his finish. I debated approaching them, fan-like, but decided not to embarrass myself in front of Justin's family by being all star struck!
My mom was soon calling to let me know that she was nearing the Upper West Side and would be at our post-race restaurant soon. Cary and Justin's family had been encouraging me for a while to leave so I could get warm (they had been generously offering me the shirts off their back up till then!), and I finally took them up on it and headed out. I made Cary promise to call me with an update as soon as they actually got to see Justin.
Getting out of the marathon was, as usual, the worst part of the whole experience. The NYCM organizers always make you walk another mile at the end to get your drop bag (even if you don't have a drop bag) and food (even if you don't want their Gatorade and half-frozen plain bagel, which is all they offer). Luckily, since I was coming out of the medical area, I got a police officer to escort me through the special secret exit that was around 72nd St - saving me about an hour of being penned in with the cattle herd. I quickly made my way to Calle Ocho, where I was having my post-race celebration.
And what a post-race celebration it was! For those of you who don't live in NYC, Calle Ocho is a Cuban restaurant that's known for their all-you-can-drink sangria bar. Brunch entrees are $15-20, and include access to the sangria bar, which has about eight different flavors of sangria for you to mix and match. I held court at my big corner booth with my friends and family, getting lots of attention and congratulations from others in the restaurant, who couldn't believe that I had run the marathon and was now drinking glass after glass of sangria. Come on, people, that's how I roll! Though I suppose I did look a sight - still in my race outfit, bib attached, medal on - and a massive goblet of sangria in hand :)
As it started to get dark out, it became time to head back to my apartment and get cleaned up. I had thought that Justin's after party would be canceled, given that he had gotten sick after the race, but when Cary called with an update on his status, she assured me it was still on. Yikes - that meant I only had a short time to shower, change, and get over there!
I didn't know whether it was casual or dressy, so I wore some cute dark jeans, a going-out top, and my NYC Marathon t-shirt over the top - figuring I could always take the t-shirt off and be in a slightly nicer outfit. When I got to the hotel for the after party, I was glad I had made that decision - people were dressed up as though going to a cocktail party! At the coat check, I quickly stripped out of my t-shirt before people could see my outfit faux pas. There - all set :)
The party was a blast! A lot of people wanted to meet me and talk to me about the race, which was really neat, and so many were in awe of my accomplishments.
I was approached by the head of the charity for which we were raising money, who thanked me for all my hard work in fundraising and in getting Justin to the finish line; I also received accolades from Justin's family and Stephen, Justin's trainer. I got to meet David Waldstein, the reporter who had written the amazing article in the New York Times about me.
And perhaps most exciting of all, I got to meet Justin's agent - who gave me his card and told me he'd love to represent me! Wow. I don't know exactly what he would "represent me" for, but that's definitely something to follow up on.
Halfway through the event, Justin came out and gave a speech thanking everyone for their support - and calling me out for helping him get to the finish. The entire room of people applauded for me, and I felt so special - how neat to get recognized like that. The highlight of Justin's speech, for me, was having Justin read out the text message he had gotten from Roddick: "Well done, Sir. Send me wiring instructions.” Take that, Roddick!
I stayed for another cocktail or two, but honestly, I was exhausted - it had been a long day! It seemed Justin was pretty tired too, as the party didn't last as long as I feared. Instead, we said our goodbyes around 10pm, and I got one more quick pic with Justin before I left.
All in all, a very successful race and pacing experience! Now... who has some celebrity connections and wants to hook me up for round 2? Perhaps, as was suggested to me by many people over the course of the evening, I can make pacing/training my new job :)
Race stats: Distance: 26.2 miles Time: 4:09:57 Pace: 9:32 Overall place: 18185/44704 Gender place: 4199/16,043 Age group place: 804/2621
***This is part 2 of a delayed race report from November 7, when I ran the New York City Marathon as a pacer/coach for tennis pro Justin Gimelstob. For part one, click here.***
Last year, I had been right in the front of my wave 2 start when Frank Sinatra started singing New York. This year, we were in the middle of the wave 1 start, which meant that we had a few minutes of just standing in place and then a slow walk to the chip mats before we could start running. I used the time to to sing along and dance a little bit as I got myself pumped up. I was later able to find myself on the news coverage crossing the start, and I found it fitting that I started right at the end, where Frank sings, "it's up to you, New York, New York!" It was indeed up to me, and I was determined to make sure Justin crossed the line well before the 4:45 bet, so that we could win $10,000 for the children.
Justin had stopped to tie his shoe just before we crossed the start line, and in doing so, we lost most of his friends and the rest of our group - it was just me and Justin. Justin had his headphones on, listening to the special inspirational playlist he had put together, but I ran without music - I knew from last year that there was plenty of entertainment even without an iPod.
The first two miles of the race are on the Verrazzano Narrows Bridge, and while I had been excited to be on the top deck this year and get the glorious views about which I had heard so much, I actually didn't find it to be much better than the lower deck. It was nice to see the sky, but from where I was, I couldn't see much over the rails anyway, and try as I might, I couldn't spot the fire trucks spewing fountains of water (an iconic image that I've only so far seen in pictures of the Marathon). With nothing much to look at other than the runners around me, I focused on my watch intently, with a goal of keeping us to a conservative 9:40 pace for that first uphill mile.
My pacing plan was to do around a 9:35 pace for the first half of the race and a 10:00 pace for the second half, slowing down on the uphills and speeding up for the downhills and for the crowds on First Avenue. According to my lan, the fastest we'd ever go would be 9:30 (miles 2-7) and the slowest would be 10:20 (the brutal uphill at mile 23). With this plan, we'd finish around 4:22 - meaning that we could give up almost a full minute on each mile and still win the bet to finish in 4:45. It was definitely a conservative plan, but I thought it was a good one considering that Justin had had the flu all week and the primary goal was to win the bet (with achieving a fast time being the secondary goal). Ah, the best laid plans...
Despite running what felt like an easy pace, my watch was showing around an 8:30 pace for that first mile. I kept tapping Justin on the shoulder (his music was cranked up high) and making a "pull it back" hand motion, but my efforts were futile, and we finished the first mile in about 8:40. That's what the adrenaline of the start does! I continued trying to slow Justin down as we went into the second mile of the bridge, but that was even tougher given that we were now cruising downhill.
We entered Brooklyn and stayed to the right, picking up some crowd support as we went. I was really glad my name was on my shirt - my favorite part of the NYCM both years has been all the people who scream and cheer my name! I felt bad that I hadn't told Justin to do the same, but I hoped that at least the general wall of noise that heralded our joint approach would boost him up as well.
By the time we hit mile 3, we were already more than two minutes ahead of schedule - oops! I pointed this out to Justin, but he wanted to just keep pressing forward. Given that he was a pro athlete, I didn't want to cramp his style too much, so I tried to allay my concerns about going out too fast by reminding myself that I had built in a pretty big cushion for failure, and that I knew my motivational abilities were strong - even if Justin did burn out in the later miles, I felt confident that I could spur him to at least stick to the conservative pace I had planned at the end.
But my role in the race was more than just pacer/motivator/cheerleader. Justin joked that I was also his "sherpa," because I was carrying extra gels and an extra iPod for him (in case his iPod shorted out from his profuse sweating). I also had my cell phone, as usual, but instead of being my "get motivational calls from Mom" device, it was now the official communication device of Team Gimelstob: we had given the number out to Justin's friends/family as their way to keep track of us on the course. From mile 3 on, I was making calls and sending texts to alert supporters to our location and ask for "reinforcements" (you'll see what I mean in a bit).
Our first stop was planned for mile 5, where we'd meet up with one of Justin's friends who would have a change of shirt for Justin. Remember how I mentioned the profuse sweating above? Let me clarify exactly how much that is: by mile 2, Justin's shirt was already saturated and dripping. Justin's girlfriend had warned me not to run directly behind Justin, and around mile 7, I found out why: because it feels like you're getting rained on! Hehe. Anyway, my point is that the five outfit changes along the way weren't some sort of diva thing - they were pretty much a necessity.
I had planned ahead for the outfit changes, adding one minute per item of clothing we planned to change (i.e. if it was just a shirt, it was a one minute change; if it was shirt and shorts, it became two minutes), and the pace sheet I made had all the changes marked in, as well as who we were meeting and where they would be. However, I realized that for the mile 5 change, I hadn't noted down whether Justin's friend would be on the left or the right - uh oh! I didn't have the guy's number, but a quick call to Justin's girlfriend got me the info I needed: he'd be waiting on the left. My mom was going to meet us at mile 7, so I quickly texted her to be on the left side of the road as well, all the while getting mocked by spectators for chatting/texting while running. Such is the life of a pacer/coordinator/sherpa! :)
I was worried about spotting Justin's friend, but he saw us coming and flagged us down with little to no trouble. I held Justin's headphones for him as he ripped off his shirt, and I accepted some extra PowerBars, gels, and a banana - Justin sure eats a lot more than me on the course! The entire exchange took less than 30 seconds, which impressed me - perhaps we'd finish faster than I thought.
While changing, another runner figured out who Justin was, and then turned to me: "Oh, you're the one from the New York Times article yesterday, right?" HA! So cool. Yes, from now on I am "the girl from the New York Times." That's awesome :) We ran together for a few minutes before drifting apart.
Our next brush with fame came when we saw a car with TV cameras on the right, and realized they were following the progress of Edison Pena, the Chilean miner. Justin immediately dashed over to go say hi, and I let him go for a bit - but then I realized we were due to meet my mom in another half mile or so. I ducked over across the road to let Justin know we needed to get back on the left, and was rewarded for my efforts with a brief "extra" appearance on the official TV coverage of the race - check out Justin coming in and running there, and me in the background in blue just before the end of the clip. It's really too bad they cut that footage when they did - I stayed with that group for several minutes and you could have actually seen me for real if they were just a moment later!
We caught up to my mom, and I gratefully grabbed the sunglasses I had neglected to bring (I wasn't thinking about this being a sunny race, but it was!). I love that my mom still brings her "Youngest Female 50 State Marathoner" sign to every race now - its bright, distinctive colors always make her easy to spot in a crowd.
And crowded it was! That particular section of Brooklyn around mile 8 is always tons of fun, thanks to the 5-deep crowds lining the streets. People talk so much about miles 16-18 on First Avenue being amazing, but I think that mile 8 in Brooklyn rivals that area. There is so much excitement, and because the crowds aren't gated off the way they are on First Avenue, you get a lot more interaction/high fives/etc. I love it! I tried to pay attention and look for the gospel choirs that I knew were out, but there was just too much to see and hear, and my senses were confused by all the mayhem. We went up a hill, but with the crowds so loud and adoring, I barely noticed. This is what makes the New York City Marathon my favorite!
At the top of the hill, we caught up to Justin's girlfriend, Cary, who would be running with us for the next 8 miles or so (at least, that was the plan). Shortly after we reached her, Justin declared that he wanted to go for a sub-4 hour finish. We had already done 8 miles at about a four hour pace, and Justin seemed strong so far; plus, my friend John had warned me that as a pro athlete, I should expect that Justin would have a stronger finishing kick in the later miles due to his adrenaline and how used to performing under pressure he was. So I finally gave in, despite my intuition telling me it was a bad idea.
Around mile 10, there were some people barbecuing/tailgating on their front lawn, and they were playing the Cha Cha Slide. Hamming it up, I danced along to the music while still moving forward - going backwards as they sang "take it back now y'all", and hopping forward like a bunny when it came time for "one hop this time... two hops this time." So fun!!!
Next, I got excited to head through Greenpoint, where I intended to shout "dzin dobry!" (good morning) to all the Polish people I saw. Last year I had done that, although hesitantly at first, but they loved it when I finally got up the nerve to do it. Plus, my father is Polish, and I loved being able to tell him about running through the mostly-Polish neighborhood. This year, however, I ended up on the phone trying to coordinate our mile 15 clothing change. The crowd kept being like "get off the phone, you silly girl!" but hey, what could I do? However, I didn't end up seeing anyone who looked like they might be Polish, so no "dzin dobry"s were shouted :(
Just after Greenpoint, we came to the bridge to Queens - halfway there! The bridge was a bit of an uphill, but it was short, and coming at this point in the race, it didn't cause a problem. Once on the other side, we started running through the somewhat desolate streets of Queens (at least compared to how crowded Brooklyn was). All of a sudden, there was a woman running alongside the road, yelling "Justin! Laura!" I didn't know her, but quickly realized it was Becky - Justin's agent, who was holding his next change of clothes.
This change was a complete change (shirt and shorts), so it took a bit longer than some of the others. However, after we finished, we realized that we had pinned Justin's bib onto the back side of his new shorts! Oops. No time to fix it - hopefully it wouldn't matter.
We continued through Queens, the crowds getting a bit better as we got out of the industrial areas and moved through some more residential areas. Still, this borough is probably one of the low points of the race - it's just not very crowded, and you're only there for a short time before the Queensboro Bridge to Manhattan.
Cary had originally planned to leave us before the bridge, but decided to keep running and experience the crowds on First Ave (Justin was able to get her a bib so there was no chance of her getting pulled off the course). The Queensboro Bridge was as quiet as its race reputation: no crowds, no spectators, just thousands of runners making their way across the river and getting themselves pumped up for a big welcome on First Avenue. However, the tranquility of the bridge didn't mean it wasn't exciting - we had a lot of drama going on within our team!
Justin started cramping up midway through the bridge, and declared that he needed salt to get better. Unfortunately, the best I could offer was a peanut butter Larabar - which would be too much food for him to handle. He needed salt tabs or flat out table salt, neither of which I carried (bad sherpa!). In lieu of actual salt, I called ahead to Justin's trainer (who would be meeting us at mile 18), and asked him to make sure he had salt and pretzels when we got there. It would be about 25-30 minutes till we'd get there, so hopefully that would be enough time for him to scrounge up something.
We came down the ramp off the bridge and onto First Avenue, and as with last year, I was a bit underwhelmed by the First Avenue crowds. Not because they weren't loud and awesome, but because everyone psychs you up for a "wall of sound." Maybe it's just that I'm not an elite athlete doing 5 minute miles, but here's a note to anyone who is going to run the NYC Marathon: it is not a wall of sound. You do hear it before you get there, in the distance. You hear it on the bridge as you're approaching, and it gradually gets louder and louder until you're finally there. It is an awesome boost, particularly for some of the tougher miles, but anyone who tells you that you "burst off the bridge and hit a wall of sound" is mistaken.
Now, my disclaimer in the last paragraph is not to say that I didn't love First Avenue - this year, I knew exactly what to expect, and I had an even better time than last year! I made sure to run along the left side of the road (the better to garner cheers!), and I had the technique of looking people in the eye and smiling at me down pat. All along the way, I had crowds of people cheering my name - and I loved it. Instead of running with my arms at my sides, I chose to run with them permanently up in the V for victory pose more commonly used at the finish, basking in the "I'm a marathoner; I can do what I want" attitude of the day.
First Avenue generally has a lot of handmade signs for runners, and soon one caught my eye: "Free Beer!" with an arrow pointing in the direction in which we were running. Assuming that it was along the same lines as all the other signs indicating that we should run to the bere at the finish, I laughed and called out to the guy holding it, "Wow, I can't wait for that!" Lo and behold, his friend next to him reached out and handed me a can of Bud Light. He wasn't talking about the finish; he was talking about right here, at mile 16! I hesitated for just a fraction of a second - it was Bud Light (yuck!) and there was a police officer standing two feet away from me (do open container rules apply at mile 16 of the New York City Marathon?) - and took it. While I didn't see the police officer's face, Cary later told me that his first reaction was disbelief, but then he started leading the crowd in a cheer. For my part, I cracked the beer, then returned my left arm over my head into a partial V, while holding the beer in my right hand and chugging it, all while still running perfectly on pace. The crowd LOVED it, and I managed to get even more applause than before. There were even flashbulbs going off as people took pictures of the beer chugging marathoner! (Now I just have to hope that one of them wasn't the New York Times doing a followup article about how I'm a party girl who drinks before and during a race). About halfway through the beer, I got too disgusted to drink it anymore (yes, I am a total beer snob - give me a Southern Tier Pumking any day!), so I discarded the rest of the can and kept going.
Superwoman feat complete, I now turned my attention back to scouring the crowd for my mom (there she was - HI MOM!) and then looking for food for Justin. Justin kept gravitating back toward the middle of the road, but I stayed on the left, and was rewarded for my efforts with some people handing out big SALTY pretzel rods - exactly what he needed! Sherpa-style, I retrieved several of them for Justin, hoping they would help to stave off the cramps until we could meet up with his trainer in another mile or so and get salt tablets.
Soon after we got out of the crowds, we found Stephen ready and raring to go. The best part for me was that he had a whole backpack of supplies - I could hand off the sherpa duties for a while! :) Cary left us at that point, wishing Justin luck before she headed off to try to catch us at the finish line, and now we were a different trio - with a lot less responsibility on my shoulders. I was thrilled to have Stephen around for these toughest miles of the race (fatigue-wise, at least) - he knew Justin's workout style a lot better than I did, and would be a much better judge for how far his limits could be pushed. Honestly, that is the toughest part of a marathon, if you don't do them frequently - determining when to keep pushing harder and when you're already doing the best you can (without collapsing). It's a delicate balance, and requires knowing someone very well if it's not your own body you're pushing. For that reason, I found pacing Justin to be much harder than being a hired pace team leader for a specific time goal. In that case, my goal was always to finish at the specified time, whether I had people with me or not; in this case, my goal was to push Justin to do the best job he could do.
Shortly after we hit mile 19, Justin started to fade. We had been steadily losing a bit of time ever since the cramping started on the bridge, but now Justin decided that we shouldn't go for a sub-4 finish anymore - it was time to pull it back and just make sure he finished under the 4:45 time required to win the bet with Andy Roddick. I thought this sounded like a smart idea - we wouldn't want to push too hard and risk the bet, so take it easy we would. Given that we had already done the first 16 miles or so on pace for a 4:00 finish, and we only had 7 miles to go, we had plenty of time to back off the pace and still win the bet comfortably.
We took the bridge to the Bronx at a walk, allowing others to pass us for a bit as we especially tried to save energy on the slight incline. With extra energy to spend, I tried to cheer on those around me as well ("come on, guys, only another 10 seconds and we'll be at the top, with a great downhill on the other side!"). Hey, just because I was officially pacing Justin didn't mean I couldn't help others reach their marathon goals! Meanwhile, we reached the crest and Justin, Stephen, and I continued walking a bit more.
As we started down the other side, I suggested we try jogging a bit now, with gravity on our side - and the idea was well-received. In fact, a little too well-received - it was here that Justin got his second wind and really took off. "Let's shoot for sub-4 again!" he enthused. Frowning, I checked my watch - we had wasted a lot of time by walking. While we could certainly still finish in a good time, we had been just barely hanging onto a sub-4 finish to begin with, so catching back up to finish sub-4 was now next to impossible. Unfortunately, Justin was in that post-Wall euphoric state where you believe anything is possible (one of the best parts of marathoning!), and he insisted that he could do it. Again, I harkened back to my friend John's pre-race reminder - Justin was not one of us mere mortals; he was a pro athlete who could probably perform a lot better under pressure/fatigue than anyone else. With that in mind, I let myself be persuaded, and off we went.
While I had finished sub-4 (3:56) last year on the same course, I had kept a much more even pace when I did it. Looking at my watch and doing some quick calculations, we'd need to run just under an 8 minute mile for the rest of the race - not easy at all when you've already run 20 miles and have a long, steady incline coming up at mile 22. I started worrying about my own ability to keep up with Justin. How embarrassing would that be if the "marathon whisperer" got left in the dust as the first timer forged on ahead to an unprecedented negative split? If anyone could do it, Justin could, but I just didn't know if I would physically be able to push my body that hard for that long. Could I keep this grueling pace for the entire rest of the marathon?
As it turned out, I didn't have to worry for long - Justin's burst of energy soon abated, and we pulled it back to a much more reasonable jog. I was a bit concerned that essentially "sprinting" (because that's the kind of effort it takes to put forth a pace like that late int he race) might have worn Justin down even further, but he seemed none the worse for the wear, and we chugged along steadily toward the finish. Past the jumbotron, past the Robin Hood Foundation supporters, under the underpass, and through the hip hop music - we were now onto the last bridge of the race, and almost back to our final home borough.
A sign on the bridge read "Last bridge, last hill!", but I warned Justin and Stephen that it wasn't to be trusted. While it's not steep enough to really be visible, the Museum Mile stretch from 22 to 23 is actually a slight incline - which I find to be even harder than a big hill. On a big hill, you can see that you're going up, so your brain can comprehend that's why you're working so hard. On an invisible incline, your lungs are aching and you feel like your legs have lead weights attached - and you don't notice the hill so you just think you suck at running. Not true! Always pay attention to little clues (like the angled edge of the steps of a building) and keep reminding yourself that you are on a hill, and therefore have to work even harder than usual. That little mind trick can be really important in these later stages of the race, when you're especially prone to accepting defeat and walking.
While the year before, I had spent mile 21-22 frantically calling my mom and wondering where the heck she could be (ex-Boyfriend had derailed her with a pizza stop that put them totally behind!), this year I found her easily, with her trademark sign. I was so impressed that she had managed to get all the way uptown for this viewing point, and gave her a big hug before continuing on. We took a quick right, detouring around a small park and enjoying some bands in the process, then two lefts and another right to put us back on the same track as before. The invisible hill was here, but with it came the promise of a short straightaway, a jaunt in the park, one final sprint on 57th Street, and then a glorious finish by Tavern on the Green. We were getting close!
Museum Mile always reminds me of the 2007 New York City Marathon, when my friend Kelly and I headed out to see our manager, Rob, as he ran the race. Back then, the crowds were held back with barriers to keep them from getting in the way of the runners, but this year the barriers were nowhere to be found - which meant that in addition to contending with the insidious hill, we had to deal with an extremely narrow lane for running thanks to the spectators pressing in and crowding the street. Come on, New York - Boston can get barriers along almost the whole race route; can't we get them for a one mile stretch where spectators are known to push?
But there were a few spectators I didn't want held back. While the newspapers publicized the bet with Andy Roddick as Justin's reason for running, the real reason was to honor a friend of his, Jeffrey Wernick, who had recently passed away. Justin ran the race carrying a laminated photo of Jeffrey, which he would sometimes pull out for inspiration, and it was at mile 23 that he got a huge boost: Jeffrey's sister and his best friend was there to give him a hat that Jeffrey used to wear while running, and and old marathon singlet of Jeffrey's for him to wear. It was an extremely emotional moment as Justin donned the gear, and all three of them were crying.
But Jeffrey's memory was supposed to inspire us, not pull us back, so on we went. At this point, I too was getting tired - but Stephen still had fresh legs (having joined us at mile 19), so he was pushing us forward. For my part, I wasn't falling apart, but I definitely wasn't quite as peppy as I once was. No matter - the crowds were lining the Central Park loop to cheer us on, so we had plenty of support!
I reminded Justin how he had done this loop many times before, and even twice with me by his side - it had a few hills, but we could do it. Being on the East Side and coming from the north, we would get to do Cat Hill as a downhill... though there would be a pretty nasty uphill leading to 25, and of course the dreaded uphill from 26 to the finish. The road was narrow, and narrowed further by spectators and aid station volunteers who spilled into the streets - and at our pace, we were still right in the middle of the pack, so we weren't getting any space that way. Still pushing the pace, Stephen led us like a row of ducklings as we wove through the crowds and tried to keep up.
I had been checking my watch for the last few miles, and to appease Justin when we knew we weren't going to hit sub-4, I told him that a 4:10 finish might be attainable - but we'd be cutting it close. Normally, when I set a goal, I end up banking some extra time and knowing by mile 24 or 25 that I'm definitely going to make it; however, in this case I still wasn't sure if we would. Stephen was pushing the pace to the extreme, and it was getting really difficult for me to be so smiley as I once was - now, I just focused on staying tough and showing Justin how to grit your teeth, dig in, and finish the marathon strong. Cornell always sponsors the water station at mile 25, and while I had spoken to some volunteers before the race, I just didn't have the energy to do more than pass through - certainly nothing left to yell out that I was a Cornellian (sorry, guys!). Just one mile still to go, and I didn't want to slow Justin down.
Just after mile 25, I looked over at Justin, and he looked back at me with a scary expression - with blank eyes, I could see that he was giving it everything he had, and wasn't going to leave anything on the table. After that, I started to wonder if Stephen was pushing the pace too much. I had assumed that he knew Justin really well and knew what he was capable of, but that expression on Justin's face scared me. Maybe I am just as much of a super athlete as he is... and even I was definitely struggling.
Mercifully, we made it to the top of the last hill before mile 26, and even got a little downhill to take us out of the park to 57th Street. I flashed back to the day that Justin ran his first half marathon, and we sprinted down this same hill trying to practice the art of finishing strong. I didn't have the energy to remind him of that, but I hoped it gave him strength. And Stephen kept pressing forward...
Last year, when I hit 57th Street, I was ebullient. I had just seen Mom and ExBoyfriend before turning out of the park (a surprise for me since they had been lost for hours at that point), and I felt strong. This year, I saw Mom at that same spot (could not believe she made it down from mile 21 in time!)... but I was too wiped out to really enjoy it. Instead of a victory chute to Columbus Circle and then the finish, 57th Street became a death march... that Justin and I were trying valiantly to run. Too hard! Too much! I could barely breathe and I knew I looked like the typical marathoner instead of my usual "nah, this may be mile 25 but I look like I just started" self. People were still cheering my name, but it was with a look of pity, and instead of saying things like "you look awesome!", they were yelling, "don't give up now - you're so close!" Meanwhile, there were a lot of photographers in this area, poised to catch our final moments before the finish, but I was far too exhausted to even muster up a smile.
We passed through Columbus Circle, and soon after crossed the 26 mile mark. Almost done! However, now we faced some trouble - the volunteers who are on hand to watch for bandits and pull them off the course. Justin had procured an extra race bib for Stephen to wear, so he was safe, but Justin's own bib had gotten accidentally pinned to the back of his shorts during our mile 15 outfit change, so the volunteers kept trying to pull him off the course! Stephen and I cleared the way, yelling "it's on his butt! It's on his butt!" as we went through. I'll give the volunteers this - they were certainly diligent, actually checking his butt for the bib before allowing us to keep going. I don't think we lost any time in that are, but it sure provided some excitement!
However, we did lose Stephen to the bandit-watchers - while he was wearing an official race bib, he was not wearing a timing chip, which was apparently another thing the volunteers were checking for. They apprehended him for questioning, but with only 0.2 miles to go, Justin and I forged on ahead. We would finish the race as a pair, just as we had started.
I looked at my watch and saw that it was slightly over 4:08 - meaning if we could just finish strong, we had a chance at actually breaking 4:10, the goal I had kind of hinted at a few miles back. Despite how crappy I felt after pushing the pace so hard for the last few miles, it was time for me to do my job: motivate and coach Justin to the finish. So up the hill we went, with me staying just ahead of him and trying to play "rabbit," while yelling "you can do it! Come on! Let's break 4:10!" I barely even registered the people in the bleachers - all that I was focused on was that finish line ahead, and getting Justin there as fast as possible.
With a final burst of my energy, we crossed the finish line and I stopped my watch - 4:09:59. Depending on whether I started my watch right as we crossed the chip mat or not, we had maybe broken 4:10, but no matter. "Justin! We did it!" I exclaimed. But Justin was breathing hard, trying to keep it together. It had been a tough race! He walked to the side of the wall that held up the finish line, using it to balance as he caught his breath, and then he reached out for my help. "Justin? Are you okay?" I asked, as I reached out to steady him.... just before he collapsed on top of me.
Dieters always complain about how hard it is to lose weight at a buffet. Meh - been there, done that. In fact, on my cruise, I actually managed to lose a pound! Buffets do have massive quantities of food, but there a lot of tactics for dealing with those - you scope out the whole line first, figure out what's healthiest and load up on that, and figure out the one thing you're dying to try and have a small portion.
Nay, blog readers, the buffet is the least of my troubles in consulting. I've written a lot about how business dinners involve multiple courses, mandatory drinks and a dessert course, and looks of disdain if you try to special order things (none of this "grilled dry with steamed veggies on the side"; you get it the way the chef wants you to get it or your colleagues wonder what kind of freak you are to be insulting one of the contestants on Top Chef Masters). But I'm not talking about just any business dinner here. The dinner I think is hardest at which to diet involves all of those, plus more complicating factors as well. Give up yet? I'm talking about the tapas business dinner. (Insert "dun dun DUN" sound effects of foreboding)
Tapas is tough enough to do on a diet when you're just out with friends. For those of you who've never experienced it, it's a meal made up of a series of small plates. It sounds great for a dieter, because the portions are all small sized, but you're supposed to order lots of them - so you end up eating just as much. Furthermore, they're usually very decadent (and fattening) things, and it's very hard to keep track of what you've eaten when it's just a few bites here and a few bites there.
In a business setting, tapas become even worse for your waistline. Because the plates are meant to be shared, usually one person orders for the whole table. At a business dinner, perceptions become extremely important - they don't want to seem stingy or cheap, so they order way more than is necessary (usually 3-4 plates/person). Then they say "was there anything I missed?", offering up the chance for others to add favorite dishes on the menu that they didn't initially order. You usually end up with at least three or four times the amount of food you actually want/need - and it's all sitting right in front of you and ready for you to pick at. This especially becomes a problem when you consider that tapas meals always tend to take much longer than regular meals. You don't just order once and then that's it; colleagues usually keep ordering more food as the dinner goes on, and then you're encouraged to order more wine as well... basically the dinner just never ends. In addition to giving you more time to pick at what's on the table, it's now cutting into your gym time. You know what means, though: tabata time!
On the plus side, no one notices what you eat and don't eat, because it's all communal. So if you have really strong willpower, it's a great dinner for you to exercise that and have no one be the wiser that you're on a diet. However, if you're a grazer or someone who feels guilty letting food go to waste, a tapas restaurant is pretty much the worst place you can go.
How do you deal with tapas? Or business dinners in general?
I didn't sleep very well last night - had some weird nightmares that made me toss and turn. I knew that it would be the sleep I got two nights before the race that would count, but I hoped that the nightmares weren't foretelling a bad race. Unfortunately, when I woke up enough to notice, I realized that there was a steady rhythm coming from outside my room... could it be? Ugh, yes - more rain! No! I had already done my first tropical marathon (Honolulu in 2008) starting in a rainstorm, and it was a miserable experience. Reggae had seemed so promising but now I worried that it would be just a long trek to slog through.
I was surprised in the hotel lobby to find that a very early breakfast had been laid out for the runners - how accommodating! I had already munched on an apple in my room, but grabbed a quick cup of coffee and said hello to the other runnres in the lobby before I left. As I headed out of my hotel, I was glad I had my umbrella - but it actually wasn't raining that hard. Nothing like the downpour of Honolulu! Even better, after only a few yards down the road, a bus came by - the marathon was having free shuttle buses running day all along the course, which meant that it was extremely easy to get from your hotel to any point on the course. All the better for both spectators and lazy runners not wanting to trek to the start! :)
When the bus pulled up to the start (and I do mean pulled up to the start - basically just as close my VIP NYC Marathon bus had gotten me!), I marveled at how cool and unique it was. With a reggae band playing in the background, schoolchildren on either side of the road were getting their torches lit - these would line the dark roads in our sendoff from the start. Meanwhile, a reggae steel band was playing next to the start, getting us all pumped up... and in front of the starting line, dozens of Jamaican runners were dancing wildly to the energetic beat. It seemed to be their way of warming up, and it was an awesome sight to behold! I marveled at it, but before I could think to take out my camera and put it into video mode, the dancing ended and the runners started heading back behind the line. Oops! I realized it must almost be time to start. I snapped a quick pic of the torchbearers, at least, all of whom seemed quite content to be volunteering, even in the rain.
I quickly dashed over to the bag check to ditch my umbrella and beach bag (strategically packed with a towel, swimsuit, and flip flops, for after the race), but held onto my New York City Marathon heat sheet. I normally take those with me to future races to stay warm at the start (which in this case, was definitely not necessary); however, here it would be great to shield me from the light rain while I waited for the race to start. When I returned to the starting line, I found that the elite runners were all lined up and ready to go, toeing the line every bit as proudly as the elites at NYC. Neat!
I decided to hit up the water table for a quick drink to whet my mouth before I started running, and found that the volunteers were handing out sealed baggies of water that reminded me of melted ice packs. Confused, I took one, but when another runner told me that these packets were the form that all the hydration along the route were going to take, I drank it eagerly. I had never been given a baggie of water before, so I wanted to get used to it before I got out on the course.
After mastering the art of biting off the corner and then pouring the water into my mouth, I jumped in line with a friendly couple from London, Ontario. We ended up making my heat sheet into kind of a lean-to, with a runner holding up each corner so we could stay dry under it. Brilliant idea, and one that I am going to use for future races. But lo and behold, about 30 seconds before the race director made the starting announcements, the rain stopped! Boy, I know quite a few race directors who would love to borrow that weather machine for their own races :)
The starting announcements were brief, and having only done one real international marathon before (Calgary, way back in summer 2008), I was thrown by the fact that there was no Star Spangled Banner. Have to remember that I'm not in the US! The starting announcements were very brief - basically just a welcome and then a command to start. I liked that - more races could take a cue from the idea of not going on and on longwindedly while the runners are raring to go and cooling off from their warmups (whether routines or clothing ditched). I was also pleased to note that it started very promptly at 5:15am, which reinforced the fact that this race was by runners, for runners. A non-runner might think that it doesn't matter if the race starts at 5:15am or 5:20am, but for crazies like me who often travel right after a race, that five minutes can mean the difference between making your flight home and missing it - and it's not always easy to make up the time during the race. Kudos!
However, the short announcements and my somewhat late arrival to the start meant that I completely forgot to get my Garmin satellites queued up - whoops! When the gun went off, I was still trying to get my watch to connect to the satellites - not an easy task when you're in a crowd of runners. There was a perfect gap in the starting barriers that allowed me to step to one side and allow other runners to pass me while I waited for my satellites to pick up... but even after patiently waiting for a minute or two, it still wasn't syncing. The last runner passed me by, and I decided I'd just need to go without my Garmin - I'd have to turn it on later in the race. This was one of those times when I cursed myself for not reading the Garmin manual more carefully - I know there is a way to start the time without having the GPS linked up, but I have not for the life of me been able to figure out how to do it. Anyone want to tell me? Regardless, I crossed the start line and started the CardioTrainer app on my phone. I knew from past experience that the GPS distance would be way off, but at least I would have a good idea of my time, and I could use the mile markers on the course to figure out where I was (what a novel idea! Seems we've forgotten about doing that ever since the invention of GPS devices).
The first mile was dark, once we left the rows of torchbearers, and at times I found myself wishing for a flashlight. It was easy enough to just follow the runner ahead, but since I had started at the absolute back of the pack, I was much faster than most of the runners around me, so I need not to follow but to pass. Amazingly, there weren't too many groups of people that were walking/slowly jogging several abreast, and for the most part, I didn't find it too hard to get through.
I kept flashing my phone on to light up the face of my Garmin (I hadn't set the backlight on and didn't want to interrupt the GPS calibration to do it now), but it wasn't until about 10 minutes in that I was able to get the GPS going. I didn't know exactly where we were at that point (I hadn't seen a mile marker yet, but to be fair, I had been more focused on checking my Garmin than scoping out the scenery). Still, I started it and just hoped for the best - eventually I could figure out how far off it was, and I wasn't going for time anyway, so it wasn't that critical.
As I passed the resorts, I tried to peek in to see which looked like they might be nice. I recognized many of the names from all the extensive research I had done on Trip Advisor, but so many people on there post misleading reviews (there was a crack in the corner of the tile floor in the bathroom! This place is uninhabitable!) that it's hard to tell what's actually okay and what's not. My second choice property, the Charela Inn, seemed to be pretty far down from the Negril Tree House where I ended up staying, so I was happy with my decision to go with the Tree House.
There were a few people clustered at the entrance to most of the resorts, which were mostly on our right as we ran (since that was the beach side). The left had a few resorts with spectators, but mostly had groceries, restaurants, etc, and was populated with locals who had come out to watch the start of the race. As we ran through the locals, it was clear that the early hour wasn't stopping them from "tailgating," as I'm used to seeing at marathons. However, what I wasn't used to was how their partying would affect me! In the US, you typically see beers, mimosas, and Bloody Marys being served up along the way; here, alcohol seemed to be a much less popular indulgence than marijuana. As my brother Erik later told me, "it's as popular down there as Coca Cola, and everyone from teens to grandmas uses it!" I could certainly tell :) Sensing an opportunity for a lot of fun Facebook feedback, I pulled out my phone and changed my status to read, "May have just gotten high running through the cloud of smoke at mile 4... Reggae Marathon spectators know how to tailgate!" That pretty much summed it up!
I found it interesting to see that when the 10K runners started coming back, there were a few marathoners mixed into the frontrunners (at least, given the numbering on the bibs). Normally, people doing a 10K would be a lot faster than those doing a marathon, since you have to pace yourself for that long of an endurance challenge. I briefly wondered if the 10K race was "less elite" than the marathon (which didn't make sense, given that they had the same prize money), but now in retrospect, I've concluded that it's possible that the marathon winners employ a strategy of going out faster than usual, since it's hard to put the pedal to the metal once the sun comes out and the day gets unbearably hot. Something to consider for myself for next year.
At the turnaround, there were a whole bunch of locals out, and two different car stereos blasting music. I thought that was such a neat idea of the race organizers to have a "best car stereo" competition - it's an easy way for people to show their support, even if they aren't musicians themselves, and it certainly gave a boost to the runners. We circled a roundabout (with a chip mat at the end of it - you'd think that would be standard, but I've done plenty of chip timed out-and-back races where they don't bother making sure you go to the end), and then it was back the way we came.
I enjoyed seeing who was behind me even more than I had enjoyed seeing who was in front of me, in large part because it was now just the teensiest bit lighter out and I could see better. By this time, I had also figured out that my Garmin was almost exactly 1 mile behind - which, if I had to start my Garmin late at all, at least made calculations easy. In a way, it was kind of fun to look down at my watch and then get to subtract a whole extra mile from the distance that I had yet to run!
As we made our way back up the strip of resorts, I ran into another frequent marathoner, Paul, whom I had met both the night before at the pasta party and again that morning at the hotel breakfast. We ended up running together for the next several miles, exchanging stories about other marathons while we gave me the lowdown on this race. This was Paul's third year running the Reggae Marathon, and he heartily agreed with me that it was one of the best-run marathons he'd done. I think his coming back every year is a strong testament to that!
Paul and I ran together for a few miles, with him even graciously waiting up for me when I stopped to take a quick pic as we ran back through the torches at the start. The sun was just starting to come up, so while I couldn't see it, the sky was a gorgeous royal blue color that looked beautiful against the flaming torches.
We ran by a few more resorts, with the sun rising higher and higher and starting to lighten the day. I tried to take some pictures of the sunrise, but they didn't come out great due to the angle. While I was willing to stop running to snap a pic, I wasn't about to go off the course to get a dif angle! So the sunny glare picture is what you get - it gives you a good idea of what the run was like.
After running a few more miles, I soon realized that I was starting to have GI issues. Curses! I wasn't in bad shape (yet), but knew that I would be hitting a porta portty before long. Though, come to think of it, I didn't remember seeing porta potties so far. I asked Paul, and he said there was one every mile or two - I probably had just missed them when it was dark and I wasn't looking for one. But as we came up to the next aid station, I saw the familiar shape... and saw a runner exiting. It was free! My lucky day. I said my goodbyes to Paul, telling him I'd catch up with him later at some point, and headed for the bathroom.
It didn't take me too long and I was soon heading out again - this time with new faces around me and a lovely sunlit pink sky.
I started chatting with a couple from Kansas, for whom this was their second marathon. The wife was doing better in the heat than the husband, and I offered to run with him if she wanted to go ahead, but they said they wanted to stick together. However, a mile or so later, as we were going up and down some rollers, the wife did indeed go on ahead and I didn't see her again - hope she finished strong!
This left the husband and I to run together. Craig and I introduced ourselves and commiserated about the heat. I decided by now that since the weather was reminding me of Honolulu (rainy start, heating up throughout the race), I was going to take a cue from that race and aim to enjoy myself instead of worrying about getting a fast time. To that end, my plan was to take lots of pictures and make lots of friends along the way. After all, making friends is a big part of the Jamaican spirit - gotta be like the locals!
Speaking of which - they were definitely out in full force. As we moved from the resort areas to an alternating mix of small towns and woods, we found that there were lots of spectators out to cheer us on. My favorite sight (that I was too afraid to take a picture of): a policeman and policewoman (in uniform), out to cheer on the runners... while smoking something that definitely did not smell like cigarettes. Too funny!
On the "not funny" side was my stomachache that was getting worse and worse. Eventually, I knew I was going to have to stop at a bathroom - and as luck would have it, a portapotty was just pulling into sight. Craig wanted to wait for me, but I told him to go on ahead, and that I'd do my best to catch up later. However, I wasn't anticipating how long I would need to stay in the bathroom. Ugh! To make things worse, the lock on the porta potty was broken, so there was no way to keep the door from opening. I hoped that no one else would come by while I was using it, but as luck would have it, a (female) volunteer came and opened the door while I was still in there. Surprise! I tried to call out and hold the door shut as soon as I heard her start to open it, but wasn't quite quick enough, leaving her looking pretty startled. Sorry about that, ma'am :(
On the plus side, when I finally did get out of the bathroom, the weather actually felt cool and breezy. That darn porta potty had been so stifling that it was a literal breath of fresh air when I came out! Onward I went, feeling a thousand times better now that my insides weren't quite so rumbly. Note to self: when doing a hot and humid marathon in the tropics, revert to taking Immodium beforehand. Nothing worse than heat + humidity + tummy troubles!
Craig was long gone, but I ended up spotting him just a few hundred feet from the turnaround (me on the outbound, Craig on the return). As we had gotten closer to Orange Bay, where the race turnaround would be, we found tons of schoolkids out, cheering us on and sometimes even running with us. Soon after we went around the cones and chip mat at the turnaround, we encountered a group of about a dozen boys and girls, who quickly segregated by gender - the boys running with Craig, and the girls running with me. My three little "pacers" were awesome, and truly lifted my spirits at an otherwise tough point in the race (very hot, a little bit hilly, and still a long way till the finish). They fought about who got to hold hands with me as we ran, but I solved the problem by offering to take turns, and making sure to chat with the girls lots and try to get to know them. What amazed me the most was that two of them were running barefoot! Stronger women then I am, for sure :)
They eventually stopped running, so I caught up with Craig and his group of pace buddies.
They kept going a bit longer than the girls, but they were a little bit of a strange bunch. Immediately when I joined up with them, one of the boys asked for my phone number (before even asking my name). When I inquired as to why he wanted it, he said that I was his girlfriend and he wanted to call me every night. Did I mention he was about 10 years old?? Getting started on the player lifestyle a bit early, that one :)
After we left our "pacers" behind, we got to go past another Reggae Band, which I loved. They were all smiles and just seemed so happy that we were all out there running.
And then we were at mile 16, which opened up to a great ocean view! Just ten miles still to go - yippee.
Soon after that, I saw my old friend - the porta potty. No stop needed this time, but I decided to take a picture of it anyway, just for posterity's sake :)
And while I was taking pictures, I caught one of a local runner (doing the entire marathon barefoot!) who stopped to pose with Craig.
Unfortunately, poor Craig started cramping up, so we started taking more frequent walk breaks. I offered him some BioFreeze for his muscles, but that still wasn't very helpful. He kept telling me to go on ahead, but I refused. Today wasn't a day when I was going to hit a good time anyway, so there was no reason to go it alone when I could do it with a friend. Besides, his cramping provided the perfect excuse for me to "have" to take frequent walk breaks :)
On one of these walk breaks, as we headed up a hill, we caught up to some other runners, including a woman who was walking at a slow pace. I advised her that walking at a faster clip would still provide her the necessary break from running, but not slow her time down as much. She gave it a try and realized I was right. I'm not saying you have to powerwalk, but sometimes you might find that it takes less energy than you think to pick up the pace.
In speaking with the woman, Craig had fallen behind, and at the next aid station, the woman fell behind as well. I eventually looked back, but seeing no one behind me, decided to just keep going alone. I felt kind of guilty for not sticking with Craig, but I found that being alone was rather peaceful and energizing! I enjoyed the beautiful scenery as I ran, pausing to pick some gorgeous purple flowers to stick in my hair (unfortunately, they kept falling out). I even stopped to see some really cute goats just hanging out on the side of the road! How neat to see such different flora and fauna.
Being on my own, I now started getting stopped by bike volunteers pretty frequently. The first time, my first reaction was, "oh no, do I look like I'm doing that terribly that volunteers have to stop and help me?" But by a few times later, I realized I was looking fine - it was just that the race organization/volunteers were so awesome that they made it a point to check in with all the marathoners and see if anyone needed anything! They offered me water, Gatorade, Gu, sunscreen, medical aid... or just some conversation to make the miles go by faster. This race was truly the perfect mix of being a small race and a large race, because the marathon field was so tiny they were able to provide this kind of special service, but the 10K and half marathon fields were large enough to warrant a great pasta dinner and finish. Furthermore, I was thrilled that despite the marathon being so small compared to the other two races, we marathoners were made to feel just as important as the short distance runners.
Before long, I was at mile 21 - and it couldn't come fast enough. By this time, it was brutally hot and sunny, and the rolling hills were no longer a nice change of pace - I wanted it to be flat! But with only 5 miles to go, I was getting close.
In counting down the miles to go, I again employed the strategy of only counting to 25, since I assumed the last mile would be full of spectators and not that bad. So when I crossed the 22 mile mark (going over a bridge by a really pretty inlet), I pretended it was only 5K to go. Not that bad!
As I started getting closer to Negril, resorts started cropping up, with spectators out to cheer us on, and lots of bands along the way. Finally, I saw the "welcome to Negril" sign - almost there.
The trees along the road gave way to rocky beaches and oceanfront, and I put on my "marathon power songs" playlist to get me through the last final push. Today, I really rocked out to Miley Cyrus' "The Climb", and I sent a message to my mom, asking her to tell my little sister that I was thinking about her, because she's a huge Hannah Montana fan. I later found out that my little sister thought Miley Cyrus was actually at the race, singing for me and the other runners! Didn't I wish :)
But instead, particularly as we got closer to town, we had lots more entries into the "best car radio" contest. Seriously, what a fantastic way to get the locals to support the race and provide a pick-me-up for the runners! More races really need to learn from the Reggae Marathon, though I suppose they wouldn't have the fabulous Bob Marley singing "One Love" and reminding us that when we get together, we'll "feel all right" :)
Just in case we hadn't caught the connection, at mile 25, we found a big sign proclaiming it to be "Bob's Mile." Every few hundred feet, we'd come across a little sign with a quote from one of his songs - one reminding us to relax, enjoy Jamaica, and enjoy the race. Unfortunately, I was so focused on getting to the end at this point that I didn't snap any pics. Still uplifting!
Despite my feeling that I was sluggish and wiped out, I was still passing people in these last few miles. There were a lot of people taking walk breaks, and while I would have loved to acquiesce and do the same, I tried to just keep jogging. The sooner I got to the end, the sooner I could stop running and just collapse into the ocean! I was definitely looking forward to napping on the beach later.
By 25.9, we were running almost right next to the beach, and it was calling me. I snapped my last picture of the race before it was time to focus - finish right ahead!
With volunteers and spectators cheering me on like crazy, I took the one turn of the race that brought me to the finish chute - a nice grassy surface perfect for a sprint to the finish line. As reggae music played in the background and I threw my hands in the air, I heard the announcer welcoming me to Jamaica and telling the crowd about my breaking the record to become the youngest woman to run a marathon in all 50 states. She thanked me for coming to run the Reggae Marathon, congratulated me on a strong finish (I later found out I won first place in my age group!), and invited me to come back again - all while volunteers and spectators gawked and came up to shake my hand. SO cool! I was given a beautiful finish medal that
However, I didn't have much time for handshaking and accolades - I saw a tent in front of me, piled high with coconuts, and one of them had my name on it. My friend Dave found me, and once I got my coconut, snapped a picture of me drinking straight from the nut. Too fun!
Next stop was the Red Stripe tent, where I got a beer and then headed for the bag check to get my drop bag. Bathing suit, here I come! Once properly attired (meaning: bikini with medal on top!), I dropped my stuff in the sand (except the beer, of course - that was coming with me) and plunged into the ocean. That may have been my fastest sprint of the day!
And to provide the perfect finish to the race, I got to walk back to my hote.... along the beach, another Red Stripe in hand. That beats a crowded shuttle bus to a parking lot any day! While walking by the Sandals resort, there was a wedding happening on the beach, and while turning my head to look at it, I missed the Sandals staff trying to stop me from continuing to walk. Once I realized, I gladly went up the beach and around them - I can't imagine my pasta party-bloated, beer-drinking body would have been welcomed in the background of their wedding pictures... at least it wouldn't have been as bad as this pic.
Once I got back to my own hotel, it was time for a late lunch on the beach...
...a quick shower and some naptime...
...a delightful cocktail party thrown by the hotel for all the runners...
...and a beautiful Caribbean sunset.
Thank you, Jamaica!!! See you next year, mon :)
Race stats: Distance: 26.2 miles Time: 4:32:09 Pace: 10:23 Overall place: 53/119 Gender place: 15/41 Age group place: 1/7
I'm a consultant based in NYC who used to be a total non-runner, but recently broke the world record as the youngest woman to run a marathon in all 50 states. You would think all that running would render weight gain a non-problem for me... but you underestimate my penchant for fine wine, good cocktails, and great food!
All of these are blogs that I read daily. Well, maybe not daily, because I tend to get behind, but I do read every single post, even if it's a week later and even if I don't comment :)
