One of my favorite things about training for the marathon this past summer was running across the Brooklyn Bridge week after week and watching this building being built. I didn’t know it was Gehry. Should have guessed.
Jeff and Rachel are not what you would call "good runners," or "in shape," or "fond of getting off the couch." Yet they're training to run the Dublin Marathon this fall as part of The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's Team In Training Program. Between them, they need to raise over $10,000 in six months.
This is the story of what two people will put themselves through to make themselves and others healthier.
To donate, please go to one of their Team In Training Donation pages:
Donate under Jeff's name
Donate under Rachel's name
44 Notes
In Which We Run Our Last Long Run Before the Marathon, and the Lessons That We Learned From It
Last Saturday, September 25, was not a good day in the Scherowitz household. We were both utterly defeated by a terrible day of running. We met up with the Team in Training crew in Union Square for a scheduled run along the waterfront of Manhattan, a run which gets more beautiful every year. The sun was shining and it was a pretty day, at least for those not trying to run 16 miles. Our friend Ian came to run alongside us, to keep us company and to train for an upcoming half marathon.
Rachel was only a mile or two in when she had to drop out, suffering from spasms in her hip, among other things. I didn’t start actively sucking until about mile 7, and from then until I gave up at 15.5 miles, poor Ian had to wait while I took walk break after walk break, apologizing profusely and beating myself up for my lameness. I had no injuries to speak of; just no energy, and no will power to push me through it.
A week later, it was another sunny Saturday morning, and it was to be our last long run before the “taper,” our cutting back on mileage leading up to the big race, now only three weeks away. We left from Prospect Park in Brooklyn, ran across the Brooklyn Bridge into Manhattan, fought our way through the already busy streets of Chinatown to the Williamsburg Bridge, ran to Brooklyn and back, ran back through Chinatown to the Manhattan Bridge, back to Brooklyn and the park, where I had to do an extra loop of the park to get to 18 miles. And you know what? I felt pretty damn good, considering. Rachel did an amazing job, too, and her physical therapy plus a nice, slow pace helped her finish her 15 miles with no major pain.
One week, I figured I’d reached my limit. I would never be able to run a marathon. The next, I realized I could have kept going, if I had to. What were the differences? Nothing new here, advice-wise, but some lessons you can only learn through making mistakes. There’s intellectually knowing what you should and shouldn’t do, and then there’s having to live through doing it the wrong way.
- Temperature matters. That’s the one difference that I had no control over. Both days were sunny, and neither were exactly hot, by a normal pedestrian’s standards, but this Saturday was almost chilly, at least at the start. A fifteen-degree difference makes all the difference.
- Sleep matters. The previous week, I went to a birthday party and a get-together of old co-workers. Knocked back a couple of beers, got home at midnight or so. Not cool. This past Friday, Rachel and I made ourselves go to bed at ten. Ten! For most of us without kids, this is early.
- Beer bad. Water good. Duh, right? This past week I drank water all day long. It really does help.
- Nutrition matters. Not only did I try to eat starchy food the day before, but I really made myself choke down all those GUs and jelly beans and whatnot during the run at regular intervals. I’m pretty sure it made a difference.
- Run at your own damn pace. We love Ian, and he really was trying to slow down for us. But he’s a skinny guy with long legs that looks as if he were genetically engineered to run. His slow was still faster than my fast, and I couldn’t help but try to keep up with him. Ironically, my slow, steady pace this past week was not THAT much faster than my pace the previous week including the miles of walk breaks. If you go out too fast, your body will find a way to slow you down.
- Will power, self-image and momentum go hand in hand in hand. Every athlete probably knows this already. When you start to suck, you think about how much you suck, and you make yourself suck more. When you feel good about yourself, your performance improves. A week ago, I was a terrible runner who couldn’t do anything right. This Saturday, I just pushed through. How many hills did I go up without stopping to walk? If I can do this, I kept saying, I can do anything.
So that’s that. All stuff I should know already, but now I know it. These next few weeks will be about good habits, maybe some actual cross-training, and getting ready for the upcoming time zone change. (Rachel wants us to start getting up at four in the morning. I cannot imagine this.) Dublin, here we come!
My greatest accomplishment in this life isn’t something I wrote, or a performance I gave, and certainly not a race I’ve run. It’s that I’ve somehow managed to stumble into having the best group of friends, family, and colleagues a guy could have. Your generosity and support have been overwhelming, and I’ll be thinking of all of you when I cross the finish line.
Some things I would like you to think about:
- Team in Training and The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society are amazing organizations, and I urge you to stay involved with them however you can. Just because I’ve reached my fundraising goal for this race doesn’t mean you shouldn’t consider donating, whether it’s through me, or Rachel, or someone else, or on your own.
- The NYC Team in Training members running the Dublin Marathon this year have so far raised over $75,000 for the cause. Wish us luck on race day, Monday, October 25!
- Have you given any thought to trying to train for a race yourselves? I’m looking into organizing a team for the Spring season. Maybe it will be a group of comedians, or maybe it will be my co-workers at the magazine. Let me know if you’re interested!
- Whether or not you’ve donated, let me know if you want me to run in the name of a loved one. I will be writing their names on my shirt when I run the race. It’s the perfect way for us all to remember who we’re doing this for.
Go raibh maith agaibh,
Jeff
For Us, The Battle of Brooklyn Was a Battle to Keep Running
On Sunday morning, Jackrabbit Sports organized its first race, a 10-mile course that consisted of running around Prospect Park three times. True to form, Rachel had signed up in advance, and I had waited until the last minute—though the line for last-minute registration was actually shorter than the other lines and I got my number and chip first. Ha ha!
Once we got started, we were both suffering a bit. It was early, and we had both had crazy weeks. We took a train down to D.C. on Friday afternoon to perform musical improv as special guests of the delightful iMusical at the Washington Improv Theater. I got to play a food-obsessed fire chief, and Rachel, a pyromaniac twenty-something looking for love. We stayed out drinking on Friday night, had a quick breakfast at Eastern Market with our friends from the cast, then took a train back to New York. I headed straight into the office on Saturday afternoon and didn’t get back home until 11pm. This meant I had about six hours sleep prior to the race, and my nutrition for the past couple days consisted of:
- Friday evening, about 7 pm: Turkey and Swiss crepe, coffee
- Friday evening, about 11:30 pm: Nachos, key lime pie, many beers
- Saturday morning, about 10:30 am: Blueberry pancakes, coffee
- Saturday afternoon, about 4 pm: Big Mac meal
- Saturday night, about 11:30 pm: leftover piece of pizza
Not ideal. For the first two laps of the park, I felt tired and whiny. Even though it was overcast and drizzly, it was still hot and humid enough that sweat was gushing out of every pore. And then there was the repetition: I ALREADY DID THIS HILL. NOW I HAVE TO DO IT TWO MORE TIMES?
By the third lap, though, I was feeling a little better. Coach Kara ran alongside me and we chatted about stuff other than running, and maybe the caffeine from my first ever “goo” was kicking in (we usually stick to the jellybeans), so by the last mile, I had enough reserve energy in the tank to pick up the pace for a strong finish. I did the ten miles in 1:45:59, at a pace of 10:36 per mile, and Rachel did 1:59:33 at an 11:58 pace.
As usual, the Team in Training crew was tremendously supportive, cheering everyone on as they finished. I would especially like to thank Coach Kara for her support and my fellow BTK Band member Jenna Brister, who works for Jackrabbit and who cheered me on at every lap.
On a scarier note… even though I’ve raised over $2,000 for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, I still have over $2,500 to go before October. Yikes! Won’t you consider donating? If everyone I knew contributed even $10 or $20, we could meet that goal in no time and you would be helping to fund research to combat these blood cancers, and giving comfort and support to those who need it most. We’re the ones running hundreds of miles… all you have to do is give up a couple of minutes and the cost of a couple of six-packs. End of plea. Thanks for your support!
2 Notes
Attention citizens of New York. Do not be alarmed. My running schedule, frustration at having waited too long between haircuts, and July’s ridiculous temperatures have inspired a DRASTIC SUMMER HAIRCUT. Ooh-Rah!*
*With apologies to any real Marines. Please don’t beat my weak ass up.
For our Brooklyn Team in Training group training run on Saturday morning, we ran from Prospect Park to Coney Island, about 8 miles. Even at 8 am, it was hot and humid, so the ocean breeze and swimming that awaited us at the end of the run made it all almost worth it.
Eight miles, guys! Can you believe it? Maybe for you, that’s not so hard, but I’m starting to get to the point in my training where every week’s “long run” is in fact the longest I’ve ever run.
We had to run again on Sunday, for 45 minutes, and Rachel and I waited until the end of the day to do it. What a surprise when we walked out the door to find that temperature had dropped maybe 15 or 20 degrees. It was a gorgeous night, and we reveled in the could-it-be-almost-chilly evening breezes and stunning views of Manhattan as we ran along the Promenade.
Yikes! We’re getting down to the wire, fundraising-wise. Might you consider donating here or here?
The Crud
About two-ish weeks ago, I started feeling like I had a cinder block sitting on my chest. Whatever, I thought. I figured my allergies were acting up, and kept running/ignoring it for as long as I could—that is, until I started hearing junk rattling around in my lungs. As I kid, I was prone to everything from bronchitis to Strep to dropsy to the ague, and fearing the worst, I headed over Duane Reade for my inaugural visit with the walk-in doc. He was really knowledgeable and approachable, and diagnosed me with, as he jokingly called it, “the crud.” (Yes. That’s a technical term.) Basically, he said that, since mid-May, New York’s been hit with a city-wide chest cold. It’s fierce for about five days, and then lingers for a few weeks. The whole time, your coughing fits could not possibly be more attractive, and you get intimate with your body’s bizarre chestal output. Awesome. And gross.
Anyway, even though I’ve technically been fine/not contagious for a while, I’ve had to take a break from training. Last night marked my first run in 10 days, and while I was aiming for 40 minutes of uninterrupted galloping, I only made it to 30 of somewhat-interrupted trotting. Sally (our doofy dog) was my running partner, and since she’s not much for long-term endurance, she and I were both drag-assing it for the last half-mile.
My coaches reassure me that I’ll get back on track soon enough, but grrrrrr. Just. Grrrrrrrrrrr.
Please show The Crud that it can’t get the best of me by donating here or here.
1 Notes
Rachel and I finished our June Bridge Challenge in the nick of time. (We’re supposed to run on Tuesday night, but it’s a group training session.) This means we get our donation from the generous and delightful Michele Medlin Laikowski, an inspirational runner in her own right.
Thoughts:
- Rachel thought Brooklyn might have been the hardest. For me it felt like the Queensboro. In the end, though, Williamsburg was the killer run, because the sun was out and it was HOT.
- In terms of beauty? I kind of like them all. Brooklyn has the best pedestrian bridge, of course, but I liked the views to the North from the Queensboro and the views to the South from the Manhattan.
- We stuck to the East River, out of convenience, but I really want to run the George Washington Bridge. All those Harlem River bridges are tiny and maybe not worth the effort to hit them all. (Or maybe we could do them all in one run?) As for the Triboro… it doesn’t look pleasant, but I’d like to say I’d done it.
- I wish I took pictures of some of the graffiti.
- Cyclists normally get very sanctimonious about their bike lanes — which I get, because they’re always in danger of hitting some clueless pedestrian who wanders into the road without looking — but on the bridges they routinely ignore signs and ride in the wrong lanes. Guess what, dudes: if you don’t follow the rules yourselves, you don’t get to complain.
How would you like to be a bridge over troubled water for those suffering from the effects of leukemia, lymphoma and other blood cancers? Please consider donating, under Rachel’s or my name.
Photo courtesy of Michael Patrick Corriss, who I hope will not mind.
1 Notes
