From Hopkinton to Boston

            April 20^th, 2015 marks the 119^th running of the Boston Marathon. I have competed in this amazing event 7 times, including 2013 when the tragic bombings occurred.  I feel extremely fortunate that I finished the race and had exited the finish area before the explosions occurred.  However, that didn’t take away my feelings of anger and sadness. The Boston Marathon occurs on Patriots day; a day of families, happiness and rejuvenation.  How dare someone bring so much hurt to this day! I knew I had to return for my 7th Boston in 2014 to join in the “take back the race” effort.

             

           This year I have chosen to forego the race to participate in the Vermont City Marathon in hopes of getting a personal best time. As great of a race as Boston is, it offers its own unique challenges (such as heartbreak hill and the adjoining hills of Newton, MA) which make running a personal best time difficult.  However, I will still be following the race this year with excitement, and most likely with a slight sense of sadness that I am not there.

          The Boston Marathon has always held a great deal of mystique for me. I still recall sitting in the back seat of the family car as a child and looking up in awe at the “It all starts here” sign while traveling through Hopkinton. We had relatives in the area and would periodically travel there for visits. Little did I know that one day I would be running in this extraordinary event and gaze at that sign through much older eyes.

         

          The marathon itself is a metaphor for life; you get out of it what you put in. By persevering through the challenges you experience the joy of achievement and success.  In this blog post I have chosen to share with you my experiences at the 2011 Boston Marathon (in which I set a course personal best) to help illustrate this point.

From Hopkinton to Boston; The 2011 Boston Marathon through my eyes

It’s Monday, April 18^th, 8:00am and I’m walking up Hayden Rowe in Hopkinton, MA.  I’m on my way to the Hopkinton Middle School, home of the Athlete’s Village for the 2011 Boston Marathon.  On Sunday evening, I was fortunate enough to be able to stay with friends in Hopkinton, avoiding the need to catch the official race day transportation bus to the starting line, which left early that morning from Boston. 

I’m walking up Hayden Rowe, because the streets surrounding the middle school and starting line are closed to traffic.  My friends dropped me off as close to the Athlete’s Village they could get, which was just under half a mile away, leaving me to walk the remaining distance, this is fine as it allows me to work off some race-day jitters. 

As I approach the Athlete’s Village, I can feel the energy in the air.  Thousands of runners are spread out on the school grounds, stretching, hydrating, and doing their best to stay warm.  The temperatures are expected to reach the mid 60’s and the sun is shining, but there is a steady wind that puts a slight chill in the air.  I don’t want to expend too much energy walking around, so I search for a spot that’s out of the wind as much as possible, where I can sit and relax and stretch.

Directly behind the school, I see a spot located between two buildings, which can provide both shelter from the wind and sunlight to help me stay warm.  As is typically the case on race day, I’m anxious to get started.  However, I’m not scheduled to report to the starting line for at least another hour, so I bide my time by listening to motivational music on my iPod and visualizing the race ahead.

My training for this year’s race was more aggressive (as far as mileage and speed-work go) than in the past.  As a result, I have high expectations for the race, with a goal to accomplish a new course personal record.  However, with challenges unique to the Boston course, I'm not expecting do to complete a personal record marathon time.  I knew that I was prepared to run strong, but variables such as how you respond to weather conditions, make the marathon a challenge regardless of how well-conditioned one may be.      

With that in mind, I am having some doubts about whether I can really run a PR.  Fortunately though, these doubts are overcome with the help of Steven Tyler and Aerosmith.  On my iPod are several Aerosmith songs, one of them being “F.I.N.E.”  In the chorus for this song, Steven Tyler repeats the words “I’m ready, so ready,” and while I know he isn’t talking about being ready to run a race, it reminds me that I am, in fact ready.

Finally, it’s very close to the time that I need to report to the starting line.  I shed my warm-up clothes and my iPod, giving them to race volunteers to transport to the finish.  I want to get to the start early enough to watch the elite women, who are scheduled to start before the elite men.  Between television and news articles, I have heard so much about these women, and am excited to see them in person.  I am also interested in watching some of the elite men, however the fact that I am scheduled to start at the same time makes that impossible.

The elite female runner I’m most interested in seeing is Kara Goucher, who in 2009 came within seconds of being the first U.S. female winner of the Boston marathon since Joan Benoit Samuelson in the early 1980’s.  Each of the elite women does their warm-up near the starting line.  Kara Goucher just so happens to do a warm-up run within 20 feet of me.  While I had envisioned her being taller, she was just as attractive in person as in magazine photos.  All of the women, including her, looked very fast.

The time has now come for me to race.  The starting line is sectioned off into corrals, which runners are assigned based on qualifying times.  I am in corral #5, meaning that I will be no more than 2.5 minutes from crossing the starting line once the starter’s pistol is fired.  In my corral, I strategically locate myself on the left-hand side.  This is my 5^th Boston Marathon, and I have learned that being on either the inside or outside of the pack allows me to run much more free and without encroachment. 

After the typical ceremonial events, such as the singing of the national anthem are performed, the starting pistol is fired.  The 2011 Boston Marathon has begun.   The first four miles are a steady decline, so past experience tells me it’s very important to control my pace.  It’s very easy to go too fast on the downhills in early stages, which will ultimately catch up with me as I approach the infamous heart-break hill. 

To achieve my goal of setting a new personal record, I will need to average approximately seven minutes per mile.  However, as the pack is usually so congested during the first few miles of these races, I’m being forced to run at a 7:30 pace.  Going too slow now will require that I have to make up more time later on.  A 7:30 pace is slower than I should be going, but unfortunately there is not much I can do about it.  For now, I will look for any opportunities I can to open up my pace.

After the first mile, I’m able to pick up my pace.  I will aim to gradually make up time over the upcoming miles as opposed to running a few too quickly.  I cross the 5k checkpoint at 22:03, which is right at my target pace, so much for not making up that time too quickly.  I am wearing my heart rate monitor to keep myself honest.  While my heart rate has fluctuated some, it has not risen too high, indicating that I’m still running within my capabilities.

The start is always full of excitement, with hundreds of spectators lining the course.  Approximately 3 miles into the race, we enter Ashland and pass by one of the liveliest spots, TJ’s Spirits.  We’re greeted by patrons who’ve arrived early on in the day to celebrate and cheer on the continuous stream of runners.  There’s so much energy from the spectators during this stretch that I have to actively focus on my own pace.  Looking ahead, I see a steady, uninterrupted stream of runners, and I know the same can be said about what’s behind me.  We must resemble a human river running through the streets of Massachusetts. 

Leaving Ashland, we enter Framingham and I cross the 10k checkpoint (43:29), putting me right at 7-minute miles.  I am on pace and still feeling strong.  This stretch of the course is straight and wide, which can make it tough on a hot day with no place to hide from the sun.  Fortunately a nice tail wind guides us along and keeps us cool.

At the 15k checkpoint (1:04:45), the course runs by Lake Cochituate.  While my eyes are focused on the road ahead, having that scenic vista makes the run mentally easier.   My pace at this point has decreased to 6:56 per mile.  I think to myself: at this pace, I could break 3 hours.  I know, however, that the hills of Newton may tell a different story.

The next famous landmark is the Scream Tunnel at Wellesley College, but that’s not for another 4 miles.  For anyone not familiar with this famous part of the Boston Marathon course, this is where the women of Wesley College stand and scream at the top of their lungs for all the runners passing by.  Keeping a controlled pace by Wellesley College takes extra focus, and since I have 4 miles until then, I must keep my pace controlled for now.

This is my 5^th Boston Marathon, and each time there has been a large, hand-written sign in Natick, stating Detour with a large arrow pointing to a keg party at a nearby house.  Sure enough, this year is no different.  While I’m always up for a free beer, I don’t feel that that would be too conducive to setting a PR marathon time.  So I opt not to take the detour.

I continue to run along at a strong, steady pace through Natick and crossing into Wellesley.  I know that any minute now I’ll be hearing the screams from hundreds of Wellesley college women.  Based on past experience, Wellesley is a point in the race I can use to gage my performance.  While only just shy of the half way, in years past, any indications of a bad race usually start to appear in the form of fatigue at this point.  The cheering women at Wellesley provide a great boost, but if I’m having a bad day, this boost is very short-lived.  So I approach downtown Wellesley hoping for the best.

Rounding the bend just before Wellesley, I start to hear the distant screams.  As expected, the traditional lives on, and the women are lined up outside of the college.  As I get closer and closer, the screams become louder and louder.  It takes everything I have to maintain my composure and keep my pace steady.  Running through the infamous scream tunnel, I move closer to the right side of the road where more of the women are located to absorb up as much of the energy as possible.  Numerous signs are held up saying kiss me.  While tempted, I’m on PR pace and don’t want to lose momentum.  If only these ladies could be lined up at the finish, I would be happy to oblige.

I eventually exit the scream tunnel as the course dips down, only to rise back up again into downtown Wellesley, the official half way point.  While downtown Wellesley is certainly not lacking in spectators, the scream tunnel is a tough act to follow.  But, as always, the cheers of the crowd are uplifting.  I hit the half marathon at (1:31), slightly ahead of pace with miles just under 7 minutes each.  Even better news is that I’m still feeling great with no signs of fatigue, and my heart rate continues to remain steady.  The sun is still beating down, and if it wasn’t for the wind, this might be uncomfortably hot.  The tail wind is still providing a nice, cooling effect. 

The next town we’ll be passing through is Newton, where the real fun begins.  As I continue to run through Wellesley towards Newton, I replay my strategy in my mind for dealing with the Newton hills: quite simply, survive.  I will do my best to maintain my steady pace, with the understanding that it may in fact decrease slightly.  My goal is to keep this to a minimum however.

While not that steep, the hills present challenges because of their location in the race.  Starting at approximately mile 18 and continuing through mile 21, this is where runners typically hit “the wall,” the point at which runners begin to lose fuel and have to dramatically slow their pace.  Having to deal with hilly terrain can bring on “the wall” sooner if proper pacing has not been sustained.  Due to the downhill stretches in the early stages of the race, at this point the runner’s legs can feel like Jello, thus making the uphills that much more of a challenge.

                    Statue of Boston Marathon Legend Johnny Kelley located in Newton, MA

                                          

When I crest the top of heart break hill (the last of the Newton hills) at mile 21, I will then open up my pace and aim for a strong, final 5.2 miles.  As the course crosses over Interstate 95 and enters Newton, the number of spectators increases.  I know that any moment, we’ll be rounding the bend, turning off Route 16 and onto Commonwealth Avenue by the Newton fire station.  This is where the hills begin.

To help prevent cramping from dehydration, I take two electrolyte capsules, drink some water, grit my teeth, and prepare for hill #1.  Hills have always been one of my strong points.  While disliking them like most other runners, I tend to perform well on them.  While on my initial ascent, I cross the 30k checkpoint (2:10).  I’m still at my 7-minute mile pace and well on my way to achieving my PR. 

From past experience, I recall that there are some flat and downhill stretches between the major hills.  While running my first Boston Marathon in 2004, these downhill stretches deceived me into thinking the hills were behind me.  I won’t be fooled so easily today.  As I approach the second of the Newton Hills, I am starting to feel some leg heaviness.  This hill is the steepest of the three, and I’m anxious to have it behind me.  I power my way up, increasing my pace in the process.  As I do so, I see runners on both sides of me having their own encounters with “the wall.”  Some are walking and some are jogging at very slow paces.  I feel for them, but hope that’s not me in a couple miles. 

At the top of the hill, I’m feeling more fatigued than I should.  Perhaps I got slightly greedy, and went faster than I should have.  I’ll do my best to use the stretch between here and hill #3 ( aka heartbreak) to recover. There are mile markers at every mile along the course, and I use them to make sure I’m on pace.  At this point in a marathon, each mile can feel like two.  The last mile marker I saw was mile 18.  Looking ahead, I see mile marker number 20.  Somehow, I missed mile 19.  Perhaps I blacked out for a while.  Regardless, I’m happy to see that this is in fact mile 20, and that it didn’t take me 15 minutes to run 1 mile.  Mile 20 also means heartbreak hill is just ahead.  I focus on keeping my legs moving for 1 more mile, and know then that the hills of Newton will be behind me.

  

Ascending heartbreak hill does feel a bit more laborious than Newton Hill #1, but overall, I feel good.  I keep my eyes peeled for the church on the campus of Boston College.  This is a beautiful sight, not only because of the architecture, but because it means that I’ve reached the summit of Heartbreak Hill.  I continue to chug my way up, and finally, the church is within sight.  In my head, I rejoice.  There’s still 5.2 miles to go, but it feels awfully nice to have those hills behind me. 

Just pass the top of Heartbreak hill is the 35k checkpoint (21.7 miles), which I cross at 2:32.  This translates to 7 minute, 2 second miles.  Still on track for a PR, this consistent pace means I’m using energy efficiently. Boston College is also a high-energy stretch of the course, as students show up in force to cheer on each and every runner.  This energy helps build the excitement of entering Boston.  Shortly after Boston College, the course enters Brookline.  The Boston skyline is now in sight in the distance.  While great to see, there are still over four miles to go.  I need to keep my excitement in check as the last four miles are typically the toughest of any marathon.

Continuing down Commonwealth Avenue, just past Mile 22, the course descends to Cleveland Circle turning onto Beacon Street.  My legs are feeling quite lively, so I attack the downhill, taking advantage of every opportunity I have to knock seconds off my time.  I round the corner onto Beacon Street.  The street is open, long, and straight, with no turns in sight.  This can be tough mentally, especially in a fatigued state. 

There may be just about four miles remaining, but after running 22, it can feel like a long four miles.  To make this more bearable, I utilize one of my common strategies of breaking the remaining miles down into segments.  Instead of having 28 minutes left to run, I tell myself I have four 7 minute segments. I hit mile 23 with my most recent mile split being 7 minutes, 15 seconds.  This is slightly slower than what I’d been averaging, but not slow enough to negatively effect my PR quest.

Continuing down Beacon Street, more and more buildings of downtown Boston are becoming visible, including glimpses of the famous Citgo sign, located in Kenmore square.  Suddenly my pace drops dramatically.  Every step feels like I have ankle weight attached to me.  While I haven’t hit “the wall,” it’s certainly taunting me.  It’s as if it’s taken human form and is running behind me, whispering in my ear, telling me that today is not my day after all.  I have visions of my PR slipping away.  My legs are heavy, and with each step the ankle weights grow in size.  My split for Mile 23 is 8 minutes, a full minute below what I have been averaging.

 I think to myself, just get through this.  Even if you don’t achieve a PR, you’ve still had a great time.  But then another voice speaks to me louder and screams; No! You’ve trained too hard! You came here to PR, and that’s all that’s acceptable!  I know that my fuel is running low, and each step is pulling “the wall” closer to me.  I have two Gu energy gel packets remaining and quickly consume both.  I then hit the next water stop where I drink both water and Gatorade.  I may not have much fuel left, but I’m going to use every bit of it to get  to the finish line as fast as I can. 

The combination of Gu, water, and Gatorade do their job as I feel a bit of a spike in my energy.  I dig deep and put the throttle down.  I hit Mile 25 with a mile split of 7:20.  I’m too fatigued to do the math, but I’m confident that if I keep this pace that the PR will be mine.  The course then takes me through Kenmore square, certainly one of the most exciting sections of the course, not just because there’s only one mile to go, but because this is a rare opportunity to run though one of the busiest sections of Boston.  I try to put on a good show and hide my pain.  Hopefully I’ve succeeded.

Just past Kenmore square, the course dips down underneath Massachusetts Avenue.  I am elated because the finish line is oh so close, about ¾ of a mile.  At the same time, I feel like I’m running on fumes.  The course is requiring me to run uphill to re-connect with Beacon Street, thereby causing me to work a little harder.  My low fuel supply has left me in a bit of a daze, but I’m confident at this point, I can maintain my pace. 

Upon reconnecting with Beacon Street, I see the turn onto Hereford Street just ahead of me.  Inside, once again, I’m rejoicing because I know that Boylston Street, the location of the finish, is at the other end of Hereford.  Knowing this has caused me to accelerate.  I turn onto Hereford Street and see the runners in front of me, ascending a slight incline and rounding the corner onto Boylston Street.  In my fatigued state, even a slight incline can feel like heartbreak hill all over again.   But as I approach this incline, knowing what lies around the corner gives me the boost I need to propel myself onward with my speed unaffected.

I round the corner onto Boylston, and in the distance I see one of the most glorious sights that any runner can see, the finish line of the Boston Marathon.  It’s looming in the distance, which in my dazed and dehydrated state, makes it resemble a mirage.  I know however, that this is no mirage.  This is the real thing.  Even though the finish line is in sight, there is still about a half mile to go, and in open stretches such as this, you can run and run and feel like you’re not making any progress.  My internal fuel supply gage is on ‘E.’ The ankle weights on my feet are once again getting larger.  With the finish oh so close, I’m bound and determined to get my PR.

This final stretch is loaded with spectators.  The energy they supply with their cheers resembles the force of a tail wind, pushing me along to my destination.  I know that every step brings me closer to the finish, so I focus on the road in front of me, not the finish line in the distance.  As I continue to run down Boylston, the cheers become louder and louder as I get closer to the finish.  Typically, the adrenaline of being near the finish allows me to bring out my inner Carl Lewis and kick to the finish.

My brain summons my legs to kick into a higher gear so that I can sprint to the finish. But, much like Scotty in the engine room of the USS enterprise, my legs say; “we’re giving it all we got captain.”   I continue on, picking up my pace slightly, but not to the degree I would like.  The finish line is within reach, no more than ¼ mile away.  At this point I’m running on sheer determination.  I put my head down, dig deep, and use every bit of my remaining fuel to power my way towards the finish line.  About 20 feet from the finish I I hear the announcer say: “Maurice Brown from Burlington, VT.”  This makes me feel like a rock star as I cross the finish line in 3:06:03, exactly 60 seconds faster than my previous best Boston Marathon time.

Despite my concerns at mile 23 and my close encounter with “the wall,” today was, in fact, my day.  I can now officially use every runner’s two favorite letters of the alphabet, PR, when referring to my time.

              Whether your goal is to run a marathon, become more healthy and fit, start a business, etc...there are often setbacks along the way.  These setbacks can resemble “the wall” that a marathon runner may encounter.  But just like in a marathon, these setbacks often occur when you’re close to success.  With any goal, the closer you are to success, the more obstacles you encounter.  What makes the difference between success and failure in these instances is how you handle yourself in the challenges you face.

Running and Happiness (Slaying The Beast)

It’s 27 degrees; a tropical paradise compared to the persistent single digit temperatures that have become the daily standard of late. I’ve been getting much too familiar with the treadmill so I decide this is the perfect opportunity to take my run outside.  It’s 5:00 pm; daylight still dominates, but darkness will be setting in soon, so I strap on my headlamp and head out the door.

I take one of my standard routes which travels through the neighborhoods on the hill above me. I enter a short stretch of pedestrian path that connects the two neighborhoods.  New fallen snow blankets the earth and covers the trees along the path, muffling each foot strike and giving the appearance of passing through a white tunnel.  In the distance, headlights from a steady stream of traffic on the highway illuminate the horizon, but, like my footsteps, no sound is heard. With dusk setting it the experience becomes dream-like.  

An endorphin rush typically accompanies every run, but surreal moments like this amplify the experience.  I’m totally in the zone, running effortlessly in a state of solitude. Being in this state makes me think about how running really is a catalyst for happiness. Moments like this provide happiness, but it goes deeper. One of the major sources of happiness in life is constant improvement; challenging yourself, enhancing your skills and abilities. Doing so makes you feel alive. Running offers many opportunities for this to happen.

Beginning runners often have a goal of completing a 5K. Once this is accomplished, if so desired, plenty of other opportunities exist for progression and additional challenge, such as taking on a 10K, then the half marathon or even the marathon distance; beyond that there are ultra marathons. With any event an additional challenge of trying to improve time can be added. Furthermore, running can act as a stepping stone to other events such as the triathlon. Regardless of your experience or running history, there are always opportunities for continued challenge, growth and motivation.

I have been running since high school and have progressed in a manner similar to that which I just described. With 18 marathons behind me my focus now is on improving my time. The marathons I’ve run have been for the sake of experiencing different races and as a “carrot” so to speak; a source of motivation to keep my conditioning level high.  The majority of my marathons have been on hilly courses, so it was more about the experience. Now, I’m becoming more focused on improving my overall finishing time. With Father Time in pursuit of me I know the time is now for action! The goal; break 3 hours.  

I’ve heard breaking 3 hours in the marathon referred to in running circles as “slaying the beast”. This is fitting because it can feel like an intimidating creature at times. I’ve flirted with slaying the beast in the past and just 3 years ago came the closest yet, finishing in 3:02 at The Cox Sports Marathon in Providence, Rhode Island.  I was on pace through mile 21 but was done in by the hills near Brown University. How ironic that I was brought down by a University that shares my name.

I now have my sights set on the Vermont City Marathon this May for my next attempt. A quest which I have proclaimed as Operation 259; as in, the operation will be a success if I finish in 2:59 or less (I find assigning a title to a goal makes it more fun). The course does possess some rolling terrain but overall is conducive to a fast time.  I view the rolling terrain as a metaphor.  When pursuing a goal there will be highs and lows, challenges and victories, but by being persistent you will be successful. Plus, running in my own backyard will be more fun.  My quest will be updated in future blog posts.

Everyone, runner or otherwise, has a beast to slay in their life, or a barrier that seems impermeable. Whatever yours is, go at it with a vengeance! Don’t let it intimidate you. Be persistent! Sensations of power and happiness will follow.

From Staten Island To Central Park

The NYC Marathon is held on the first Sunday of November. Since this year's race was just recently completed I thought this would be a great opportunity to share my experiences from the race when I ran it in 2008.

It’s six o’clock am and I’m sitting under a tree behind a building at Fort Wadsworth on Staten Island.  Fort Wadsworth is a military base located by the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge.  Today it is also the ‘Athlete's Village.’  It’s where everyone participating in the marathon awaits the start. 

Due the fact that there are multiple street closings on race day, runners need to take one of the official transportation buses to ensure arrival at the start on time. With just under 40,000 runners to transport, buses leave from downtown Manhattan and New Jersey as early as 5 o’clock am.  This is why I’m at Fort Wadsworth hours before the 9:40 am start. 

I’m sitting under a tree behind a building to relax, conserve energy, and get some shelter from the wind.  The temperature is supposed to reach the low 50’s, however right now it’s cold and windy.  I don’t know the exact temperature but it’s somewhere in the low 30’s.  With the wind chill it’s got to be even colder.  Even with multiple layers on, it doesn’t take long for me to get cold.  I decide to get up, walk around, and get a hot beverage to help me stay loose and warm. 

As I walk around, I see people from numerous countries.  The New York City Marathon attracts runners from all over the world.  It is also, along with Boston, Chicago, Berlin, and London, part of the World Marathon Majors Tour.  The World Marathon Majors is a series of marathons in which runners accumulate points based on how they finish.  At the end of the tour, which takes place over approximately a 2-year period, the top male and female runners split $1,000,000 in prize money.  As a result, it attracts a high number of elite runners.  While I won’t be taking home $1,000,000, I still find it very exciting to be part of an event of this caliber.

I don’t want to use up too much energy, so I sit down once again.  There are some large tents set up for runners to sit down, stretch, and relax in.  However, after looking inside, I see that there does not appear to be much space for another body.  I decide to seek out another tree, but first, I have some business to take care of. 

I have to visit the port-a-potty.  Now normally, this wouldn’t be noteworthy, but as I quickly realize there’s no exposure to the wind, inside the port-a-potty is the warmest place in Athlete’s Village.  I’ll admit it, the thought of spending a couple more hours in here to warm up does cross my mind.  After all, there are hundreds of them with practically no lines.  Would anyone really know?  Maybe if the ambiance were better, I might consider this more.  But it is a portable public bathroom after all, so I exit and once again take a seat under a tree behind a building. 

After three hours of trying to relax, focus, and stay warm, the time has finally come for me to shed everything I’m wearing except for my race gear and report to my corral. A corral is a spot where runners gather just before being directed to their place at the starting line. Runners are assigned to a corral based on their expected finishing time.  Now the word corral conjures up images of thousands of runners being herded together like cattle.  While there are no race officials on horseback chasing runners to the corral, there are directions being given over the loud speakers. 

The corrals are gated areas in which race officials act like bouncers at a club, allowing only individuals assigned to the corral, to enter. Since I had qualified for a guaranteed spot in this year’s race, I didn’t have to win my entry via their lottery system. Therefore, I am positioned in a corral near the front of the pack. 

While standing at the start, I can feel an incredible amount of energy in the air.  There are competitors and reporters from all over the world.  The starting area is lined with buses and helicopters overhead.  Seeing the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge towering in front of me is an awesome sight.  I’m enjoying the moment and soaking in the entire experience, but at the same time, I’m very anxious to start. To quote Tom Petty, “the waiting is the hardest part.” 

Before the race starts, the elite men are introduced.  The elite women had a 9 o’clock start time and therefore are already running.  Mayor Bloomberg speaks to the crowd of runners and spectators, and of course, no sporting event is complete without the singing of the Star Spangled Banner. Once the preliminary events are complete, the starting gun fires.  The 2008 New York City Marathon has begun. 

Approximately the first 1.5-1.75 miles are spent crossing the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge.  There is a median strip in the form of cement barriers down the center, with runners occupying the entire bridge both the right and left sides of the median.  Whenever I compete in any running event, especially one of this size, I try to avoid being boxed in.  However, I quickly find myself with the median strip on my left, a wall of runners on my right, and not much room to run freely as a result. 

There’s a guy running in a SpiderMan costume in front of me who’s struggling to put his mask on.  There is just enough room to his right for me to squeeze by, so I pick up my pace long enough to get around him.  I take care not to interfere as I go by him, just in case this is the real SpiderMan on his way to fight crime somewhere.

There are so many runners on the bridge that I find it difficult to run comfortably.  Making progress involves running around people, while being careful not to trip myself or others. Because of this, I quickly realize that today is not a day for a personal best time.  There are just too many people to deal with.  I decide to make the focus just enjoying the whole experience.

As we exit the bridge, runners on the right side (which is the side I’m on) take one route, while the runners on the left take another.  We will meet again soon, no doubt. We approach mile 2, and there are thousands of spectators lining the streets.  The fist sign being held up by a spectator says, “welcome to Brooklyn.”  This is my first time in Brooklyn and there are thousands of people to welcome me.  How thoughtful! 

After running about a half mile through the streets of Brooklyn, we merge with the other lane of runners.  Seeing two groups of thousands of fast moving runners merge is a very surreal experience.  It resembles two fast-moving streams merging to form a powerful river.  To organize the merger of these forces there is a man-made median strip consisting of sawhorses with yellow police tape connecting them.  After about a mile, this median strip gives way to a series of traffic islands, which allows for less separation of the two lanes of runners. 

Much to my surprise, I soon spot another group of runners to my right.  It almost looks as if there is a separate race being run.  However, this group of runners then merges with us.  It turns out that there were runners on the lower deck of the bridge as well. 

Mile 3.5 is where all runners finally merge.  Because there are fewer runners on the left side, at mile 5 I decide to cross over at a break between the islands.  This allows me to open up my pace and run more freely.  It’s not until the 10k mark that I realize the error of my ways. 

It turns out that due to the separation of lanes when exiting the bridge, the runners on the left hadn’t run the same distance as those on the right.  They had run approximately 2/10 of a mile less.  I came to this realization when at the 10k mark, there was a section of matting on the road on the right side but not the left.  This matting is on the course every 5 kilometers, as well as at the halfway point.  It picks up the signal from a chip each runner wears on their shoe to determine their split times, as well as their official overall time.  This is no big deal, just that my 10k will show as being slower than it actually was. 

I figure there must be some type of course diversion soon to make the mileage for both sides of the road equal.  I didn’t want to get stuck running further than I had to.  Therefore, after passing the 10k mark for the left side of the road, I quickly switch back to the right side, where I should have stayed all along. 

Sure enough, at 8 miles this diversion occurs.  The runners on the left side of the road temporarily separate from those on the right side, only to reconnect a few minutes later.  From this point forward, the mileage is the same for both the left and right sides of the road. 

The course continues to wind its way through the spectator-filled streets of Brooklyn.  I’m feeling strong and averaging a pace of 7 minutes per mile.  I’m comfortable with my pace, and know it’s not unrealistic to maintain it.  I also am wearing a heart rate monitor to help ensure I pace myself correctly.  It’s easy under these circumstances to get an endorphin rush from all the cheering and go too fast.  My goal at this point is to keep my pace steady and avoid this temptation. 

At the half marathon mark, my time is 1:33.  As any runner knows, doing math while racing can be difficult.  However, it doesn’t take much effort to determine that I’m on pace for a 3:06 marathon.  It’s not a personal best, but I could certainly live very happily with that. 

I’m now running in Queens, with the crowds just as lively and numerous as they were in Brooklyn.  At mile 16, the course enters Manhattan via the Queensboro Bridge. The bridge starts at mile 15 and ends at mile 16.  There are no spectators on the bridge, but I can hear the distant roaring of cheering ahead.  At this point I have separated myself considerably from those runners behind me.  I feel like I am running on the bridge by myself.  I know this experience will be short-lived, so I try to enjoy it. 

A runner soon comes up behind me and starts to pass me on the left.  As I turn to see who it is, I quickly realize that it’s SpiderMan.  He’s ditched the mask and is now running with his face exposed for all of New York to see his true identity.  I think to myself, "I would like to beat SpiderMan, but if I don’t it’s not a big deal, he is a super hero after all."

During the final ¼ mile on the bridge, I approach yet another person running in costume. This time it’s someone dressed as Minnie Mouse. I didn’t know Minnie was a runner; I don’t recall any mention of her in the Celebrity Runner’s section of the race program.  As I pass, I turn to look at Minnie.  Much to my surprise, this person dressed as Minnie, is a man.  Now I’ve been a runner for over 30 years, and I’m a competitive person.  At this point, I’m not as concerned with who beats me, as long as I know I gave 100% and ‘put it all out there’ so to speak. I quickly decide though, that there is absolutely no way I’m going to be beat my Minnie Mouse. I pass Minnie and never look back. 

After exiting the Queensboro Bridge, the course enters Manhattan. While I’ve never competed in the Olympics, I’ve got to believe that this experience is comparable (at least in regards to energy in the air) to an Olympic Marathoner running through the tunnel and entering the stadium near the finish.  It goes from quiet to crazy.  There is so much energy and excitement from the crowds that it takes extra focus to maintain my pace.

The course turns onto First Avenue, which is also lined with cheering crowds every step of the way.  This is a good thing because the course is starting to get tough, and the extra motivation they provide is extremely helpful.  What makes this part of the course tough is that it’s absolutely straight for 4 miles.  This makes it tough mentally. I look ahead and see runners miles ahead that aren’t turning.  They’re just going straight; It’s like they’re running to infinity.  I don’t want to run to infinity!  What makes this part of the course physically tough is that there’s a gradual incline that also never seems to end.  Not only are we running to infinity, we’re doing it uphill! 

Finally the course levels out as we enter the Bronx at mile 20. I’m still maintaining my pace, but I’m doing it a little more laboriously. I’ve been hydrating and taking Gu Energy Gel regularly throughout the race, but this is a common feeling. I believe it was Olympic Marathoner, Frank Shorter, who once said, “a marathon consists of two halves: the first half is miles 1-20, and the second is miles 20-26.2. “ I’ve now entered this ‘2^nd half.’

The time and effort required to run one mile feels doubled. This is where the mental component of the race becomes prevalent.  I’ve been running marathons off and on for at least 16 years. In that time, I’ve found that the best way to deal with the mental and physical challenge of the last 6.2 miles is to count them down in my mind.  Along with this, I break the remaining miles down into segments.  For example, from looking at the course map prior to the race, I recall that the course enters Central Park at mile 23.  I make this my short-term goal.  Instead of 6.2 miles to go, there are only 3 miles until Central Park.  When I reach Central Park, I’ll then break down the remaining mileage into additional segments. 

The course only goes through the Bronx for 1 mile, re-entering Manhattan at mile 21, and going through Harlem around mile 22. The spectator support is still tremendous and energizing. At this point I’m just focused on keeping my legs moving, keep my pace, and counting down the miles.  I feel like I’m shuffling through Harlem. Somehow I don’t think that this is what the Rolling Stones had in mind when they sang, “Do the Harlem Shuffle.” 

I’ve been getting water or Gatorade at each station, and taking electrolytes throughout the race.  I’m still noticing some of the effects of dehydration though.  It’s taking more effort to maintain my pace, and the surest sign of all, I’m thirsty. I decide that at each and every water station from this point forward , that I’m going to get both water and Gatorade.

 I continue to chug along at what feels like a steady pace. However, my split times are increasing and my pace has gone from 7 minutes per mile to about 7 minutes, 10 seconds. I can often maintain a strong and consistent pace through the final miles of a marathon. Today my pace just seems to be fluctuating.  I’m experiencing peaks and valleys in my energy.  I try to enjoy my peaks and focus on keeping my legs moving through the valleys. 

Finally I reach Central Park. While this is a great moment because there are only 3.2 miles to go, I’m not too pleased to discover that upon entering the park the course steadily inclines. It’s a gradual incline that seems to continue on for miles.  In actuality, it was probably only a ¼ of a mile. I keep my eyes focused on the road about 25 feet in front of me, and focus on chugging along to get the next mile marker. 

At the 40k mark, I cross the final set of matting before the finish to detect my split time with the chip in my shoe.  I’m too fatigued to do much math, but I do know that 40 kilometers is a little less than 25 miles.  I think to myself, "Hallelujah I’m almost at the one mile to go mark", which in my mind at that point, was the 2^nd best point of the race.  Number one is obviously the finish line. 

The course continues to wind its way through Central Park.  There’s enough distance between the runners in my vicinity and me to make it feel like I’m the center of attention.  It’s too bad that I can’t put on a better show and pick up my pace for a nice, strong kick to the finish.  That’s not going to happen today though.  I just hope I don’t look as bad as I feel.  I’m tired and really hungry.  Thanks to the incline, my pace over the last mile was down to 8 minutes, which is well below my normal race pace. 

I continue to have peaks and valleys in my energy level, only now the peaks don’t last as long.  I haven’t hit ‘the wall,’ but I can see it lurking up ahead.  If this race were 26.3 miles instead of 26.2, I’d probably hit it. 

Finally I reach the 26-mile mark, another bittersweet moment.  There are only 2/10 of mile to go, but it’s uphill, not a steep incline thankfully, but a gradual one nonetheless like the others.  In this case though, the sweet outweighs the bitter.  While my fatigued state has probably given me a false perception of the incline, the fact that I’m practically at the finish makes me not mind having to shuffle my tired legs up any hill.

I give my all to get to the finish as quickly as I can, crossing in 3:11:13, 1,855th place overall. My time is a palindrome! It’s not a personal best time, but one I’m certainly happy with, and while I may have had 1,854 people ahead of me, there were at least 37,135 behind me.  I did finish ahead of Minnie Mouse, but I’m not sure about SpiderMan.  That doesn’t matter though.  Despite being tired and really hungry, I feel incredible.  I just ran the NYC Marathon!

Duct Tape Use #1002

Duct tape, no tool kit is complete without it.  There is a saying that there are 1001 uses for it, but one could argue its uses are actually endless. Today I have it wrapped around my upper right thigh.  It is being used as reinforcement for the ACE bandage I have wrapped around my leg. My right adductor muscle (inner thigh) has been being overworked due to overpronation(excessive inward rotation) of my right foot . This is happening as a result of recurring effects of a sprained ankle I suffered 10 years ago.

I’m doing some physical therapy to correct imbalances and am awaiting a new pair of custom orthotics. Until they arrive I am running with the support of an ACE bandage to relieve some of the workload on my adductors. It has been working well. However, due to constant motion and contracting thigh muscles during running, the clips that come with it don’t hold, nor does the athletic tape which I previously tried, this led me to the use of the all purpose repair device-duct tape.

As I run I can feel the support around my leg and feel confident the duct tape will continue to do its job.  This leads me to thinking about the workings of the human body and how it really is a remarkable machine.  If well conditioned it is capable of more than we likely can even imagine.  Through repetition it can be programmed to become stronger, more capable, and more efficient.  If you have muscle imbalances, exercises can be done to correct them. If you have a skill you want to improve, do activities that emphasize that skill and you will improve.

Since the body is designed to move, a moving body is generally healthier. A lack of movement leads to a poorly functioning body and unfortunately a lesser quality of life. Yet since modern living has contributed to sedentary lifestyles, it has been my observation that many today have become comfortable with discomfort.  People become so comfortable with various ailments that it becomes a way of life for them. They don’t know how much better things can be, so it’s just accepted as part of the aging process and no action is taken to tap into the power they have to change it.

I'm glad that I started running back in high school, despite having asthma, because it gave me  a passion for keeping myself healthy and always working towards improving myself and my quality of life.

I often listen to audio books during long runs. Recently I completed David and Goliath by Malcom Gladwell, which examines how what we view as disadvantages are often actually advantages, and vice versa.  There are several real world examples mentioned in the book, one of them being Richard Branson. Richard Branson, founder of Virgin records and several other successful companies, is dyslexic.

Oftentimes when there is a diagnosis of dyslexia it is viewed as a reason why one is less likely to succeed in life. However, the successful person with the right mindset, such as Richard Branson, views it as a reason to work a little harder than the next person. This creates a great work ethic, as well as the ability to persevere, both are essential to success in any field.

This is how I view asthma. Instead of a reason why I couldn’t be an athlete it gave me the desire to persist and not let it stop me. I feel it made me a healthier person than I would have been otherwise, resulting in a better quality of life as well.

So, this machine known as the human body can be positively programmed or reprogrammed through thoughts as well as actions. Even if you are a negative thinker you can change your thought process to a more positive one, thereby increasing your capabilities in, and enjoyment of, life. Yes it is a gradual process, but the fact remains it can be done.  We have the power within us to alter the quality of our lives. Certainly there are things that happen which are out of our control, but how we react and respond to these events is within our own control.

There is a speech in the film, The Great Dictator which comes to mind. This film is a 1940 American satirical political comedy-drama film starring, written, produced, scored, and directed by Charlie Chaplin. It is also Charlie Chaplin’s only speaking role. There is a speech from it which I find powerful and inspiring, in particular this segment;

In the 17th Chapter of St Luke it is written: “the Kingdom of God is within man” - not one man nor a group of men, but in all men! In you! You, the people have the power - the power to create machines. The power to create happiness! You, the people, have the power to make this life free and beautiful, to make this life a wonderful adventure.

Running inspires me to make this life free and beautiful, and a wonderful adventure. When I run strong it inspires me even more so. As I conclude my run the duct tape is still holding strong, doing its job without fail.  But this duct tape did more than just support my inner thigh muscles, it strengthened my mind. It enabled me to run strong today without any discomfort so my mind and body could soak in the endorphins and empower me. It’s amazing what a little duct tape can do!

50 Shades of Green

I’m hunched over a fence post. A wave of nausea has enveloped me. I’m feeling light- headed and there is tingling all the way down my arms into my fingers.  Any moment I’ll be starting my run.

Why am I going to run if I feel this way? I’m competing in the Green Mountain Relay, a 200 mile team relay race in Vermont.  It is Sunday afternoon, day 2 for the race. I have already run 2 other legs since the race started early Saturday morning.  I am awaiting my teammate, who will be arriving any moment to hand off to me so I can run the final leg. This is a 5 ½ mile section of the course which begins with what appears to be the mother of all hills.

Between driving and running, my team is constantly on the go, leaving very few opportunities for sleep, or eating anything substantial. Whenever there is an opportunity to sleep I find myself unable to because I am so wired.  This hectic pace has taken its toll, resulting in my current state, which is why I am now hunched over in the exchange zone turning 50 shades of green due to nausea, dehydration, and low energy.   If on any other day I awoke feeling this way I would have definitely skipped my run.  I don’t have a choice today.

After much anticipation my teammate is spotted rounding the bend and approaching the exchange zone. I get into position for the handoff, having no idea what’s going to happen once I start running.

As I start my run I just focus on keeping my legs moving. With each turn I look ahead only to see the hill continue upward.  I seem to be running up a never ending hill with the needle on E and no relief from the nausea.  I continue on at whatever pace I can muster.

When I started my run my teammates drove ahead a couple of miles to cheer me on.  I am happy to see them and I get a temporary boost. They tell me I am looking strong. I think to myself, they are either lying or I should be nominated for an Oscar.

After taking turn after turn with no relief in sight a wonderful thing happens. I round a bend and there is what appears to be the top of the hill. This hill has been quite a tease, fooling me many times into thinking it was finally over, only to round the corner and see it continue. But alas, this is in fact the top of the hill, or should I say mountain.

 As I reach the top the road levels off before proceeding downhill. When this happens I feel a wave of energy slowly consume my body and my nausea dissipate.  I, figuratively speaking, do a 180. No longer am I slugging away as if running with cement shoes, now I feel like I have wings. I am setting a faster pace than I had done at any other time in the entire race.

 I spy a runner in the distance approximately ¾ of a mile ahead of me.  I am feeling stronger, can I catch him? I am sure going to try.  I keep my eyes focused on the unsuspecting victim ahead of me, little does he know I am about to strike.  With each foot fall I feel my feet getting lighter and lighter. Like one of those dreams where you are running but your feet never hit the ground.

I continue running, gaining momentum, and finally pass this runner I've had in my sights.  I keep running strong with my pace never wavering. As I approach the finish my entire team joins me and we run together all the way to the finish line. If I had quit while climbing the hills I never would have been able to experience this awesome feeling of exhilaration.

One of the things I like about running is that it is a metaphor for life. You get out of it what you put in.Something I have learned from these types of relay races is that no matter how run down, beat up, and weary I feel, I can rally and do what needs to be done. And when I do I always feel an intense sensation of strength and power unlike any I’ve felt before.

Oftentimes life beats us down, draining our enthusiasm, making it seem like whatever we are trying to accomplish just isn’t going to happen. So we are tempted to succumb to its pressures and give up the hunt.

But if we keep on keepin’ on we grow stronger and stronger, gaining momentum, making it harder and harder to be stopped. This positively affects every aspect of life because it ultimately gives you the feeling that you can handle any situation that comes your way.

One of my favorite motivational speeches comes to mind.  It’s a speech Rocky makes to his son in the film Rocky Balboa. Here is an excerpt;

Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. It’s a very mean and nasty place and I don’t care how tough you are it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain’t about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get it and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done!

Additionally, in the metaphor department, the road to achieving anything worthwhile is an uphill climb.  Just as a hill often gets steeper towards the top, our obstacles become greater the closer we are to success. It’s as if the universe is saying; “Show me how bad you want this!”

  

However, only by persevering up the hills (taking on life’s obstacles) do we get to experience the rush of the downhills (the rousing sensation of success).  Experiencing the peaks and valleys of life is an essential part of the human experience. They are what make life a thrilling ride and a phenomenal adventure. Without the challenges the successes aren’t as numerous or as rewarding.  

Outrunning Father Time

It’s my birthday, my 48^th to be specific. Normally birthdays aren’t really a big deal to me and overall they still aren’t. I approach them with a fairly positive mind set. After all age really is a state of mind, and due to my healthy lifestyle, my biological age is much younger than my chronological age. Plus I think of myself as ageless. By that I mean I don’t consider myself as being or feeling a certain age, I am just me.

However, the big 5-0 is looming in the distance and I’m not sure how I will react to that once it arrives. But that’s still a couple of years away.  I decide to start my day off with a run, because I enjoy running and I am typically in a good mood the rest of the day whenever I run in the morning.

Outdoor exercise is always like play to me. Whether I’m running, riding my bike, or doing something else, it always makes me feel alive and happy, which is another reason I want to start my day with a run. I always find it fascinating that people are often mystified that I choose to do some type of recreational sport or exercise during my free time and vacation.   

Exercising doesn’t have to be viewed as a chore, in fact in shouldn’t.  Perhaps it’s the name “work-out”.  When working out we are often doing things that we did for play as children. Perhaps a better name for exercise is “play-out”. Then it creates positive imagery.

As George Bernard Shaw said; “we don’t stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing”.  I believe this is true and a large reason why I don’t feel like I am growing older. Play is a major part of my life.

Today I decide to incorporate some speed intervals into my run.  I have some Fall races to run so I want to keep my body tuned up for faster running. Plus, it’s said that the first thing to go with age is speed. I want to run fast to reinforce the fact in my mind that I still got it. 

Today’s workout, excuse me, “play-out” consists of five 800 meter intervals at 6 minute mile pace with a 2 minute recovery jog between each.  I spend the first mile warming up and feel pretty decent. As I dig down to attack the first interval I’m amazed at how strong I feel. That strength lasts through the entire interval. I think to myself; “this is awesome, but how will number five feel?” 

This is such an atypical interval workout because usually this pace is more challenging, but to my surprise I feel strong during each speed interval. I also feel recovered well before the 2 minute recovery time has elapsed.

This is one of the many things I love about running. When you feel “in the zone” and each step is effortless it’s a feeling like no other. You feel alive and powerful! It is sublime! Today was the perfect day to feel this way, a great birthday present from the running Gods.

I read an article not long ago about how the current data on age related decline in performance is based upon a relatively small pool of athletes. It hasn’t been until recent years that more athletes have been competing into their 40’s, 50’s, 60’s, and beyond. Therefore, the full effect of age on performance has yet to be determined. There are numerous examples of older athletes performing at a high level in a variety of sports, including endurance running. One that stands out in my mind is a gentleman named Ed Whitlock who ran sub 3 hours in the marathon numerous times between the ages of 69 and 74. 

There are many variables in what determines when and how quickly a person slows down, which is good to know because I still intend to set a personal record in the marathon and go sub 3 hours in the process.

The standard state of mind people seem to have from my experience is that once they hit 40; that’s it! They can’t do anything new or improve and therefore don’t even try. It may sound cliché but truly the only obstacles we have are those we place upon ourselves. So no one should ever feel like they are too old to do something. It’s the quest to learn and grow at all times that makes for a more fulfilling life.

When I started my run there was someone in the distance behind me. That person is still there, it’s Father Time.  He’s sporting some new fancy lightweight racing shoes and running apparel. He’s realizing that he has to up his game if he wants to catch me. He looks like he may be getting faster, but with today’s run I feel like I put some distance on him.  He’s yelling at me telling me I have to slow down. I yell back, telling him that he’s going to have to catch me first.

Making A Louden Swain Effort

I was running across a bridge which spanned high above the river below. About midway across my thoughts drifted to the opening credits of the movie Vision Quest which I had seen on TV just days earlier. The opening credits had the main character running across bridge after bridge. When I saw this movie in the theater when it first came out back in the 80’s I didn’t think much about the opening scenes, other than feeling some motivation to run.  Now, after seeing it approximately 30 years later I’m still motivated to run, but I think; “man there are a lot of bridges in that town!”

Vision Quest is a classic 80’s sports movie about a high school wrestler named Louden Swain who is the champion of his weight class.  However, he’s not content to just remain champion of his weight class. He wants to drop down two weight classes to take on an undefeated wrestler named Shute (pronounced Shoot) who is widely viewed as unbeatable and everyone thinks Louden is crazy to even consider taking him on. But Loudon Swain had a vision of himself as a champion and is on a quest to make that vision a reality.

He becomes focused on his goal and does everything he can to achieve it. This includes eliminating  self doubt, ignoring negative talk from others, following a strict diet and even running to and from work to get in shape and burn extra calories (in a classic metallic silver 80’s style sweat suit no less).

It’s always interesting to see a movie years after it originally came out, especially an 80’s movie, because I am no longer viewing the film through the eyes of a teenager. As an adult it is easy to have a more critical eye. However, with Vision Quest I don’t see the film as being better or worse, I just see it different. For example, Louden Swain’s quest for more is a great metaphor for life.

At some point in our lives, or even multiple points, we have our own Shute to wrestle, figuratively speaking. We have a challenge to take on that may seem almost insurmountable. Or, like Louden Swain, you may not be content with where you are in life and have a desire for more. 

Taking on the Shutes in life is never easy. Everyday there are obstacles and challenges that try to stop you. Many times people begin their quest but become easily discouraged when they encounter obstacles. Sometimes the obstacles come in the form of an event, sometimes it's a person or persons, other times it's something else. In today’s hectic world there are certainly no shortages of potential obstacles that could interfere with fulfilling your quest.  

Making a vision a reality is never a simple process. If it was everyone would be doing it. Not everyone is willing to put in a Louden Swain type effort. In the film there is a scene where Louden goes to tell Shute that he plans to wrestle him. He finds Shute in the stands at the football field. Shute is doing his workout, which involves walking up the bleachers carrying a log on his shoulders. This is how our obstacles may look at times, slightly intimidating by sight. But those who approach life with a Louden Swain effort (are persistent, stay focused, ignore negativity, and are determined) have the ingredients for success.

Spoiler alert; as expected Louden Swain defeats Shute. Don’t let knowing this stop you from seeing the film though if you haven’t already done so. The story is all about the journey, plus it has a great soundtrack and it might just get you motivated to train.

Thinking of this film during my run gets me pumped up to keep running. I make a note to myself that I need to get the song “Lunatic Fringe” by Red Rider on my ipod, which is one of the songs on the soundtrack. I think I’ll pass on the metallic silver sweat suit though.