“Running is just you, the work you put in, and the clock. You can’t cheat yourself. If you don’t put in the miles, you can’t go to the starting line thinking you’re going to pull a miracle out of nowhere. You get exactly as much as you put in.”
For the past several months, I have been befriending a big black Labrador that is the guard dog at a towing/junkyard space along my running route near the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel entrance. I started befriending it after getting tired of this dog lunging at me every time I went by — I just started clapping my hands and talking baby dog talk to him every time I went by, whether he was acting friendly or not, and sure enough, he started enjoying it and recognizing me.
He is a gorgeous dog, and must be fairly young since he quickly became playful. But the barking and showing of teeth was fairly fierce initially, so I didn’t rush into things. My running-by gradually progressed to actually stopping — that seemed to surprise him. He wasn’t all that friendly yet, and my “good boy, good boy, hello, boy hello, boy” was not immediately welcome.
A few weeks ago, he really started seeming happy to see me, and finally got friendly enough at the chain link fence that I felt comfortable reaching in and petting him. That cemented the relationship — he quickly succumbed to petting, scratching the neck and back, rubbing under the chin. This is a junkyard dog, though, and my running gloves (it is cold out, so yes, gloves) got really dirty from petting him. My Boston Marathon gloves are actually stained from petting him, despite many washings.
The dog started bringing his tennis ball to the chain link fence when I would run by. When Steve first stopped by to also chat with the dog, he managed to befriend him too, by saying — of course — “Ball!” The dog dropped the ball for him, and Steve promptly tossed it back. The dog is quick, and caught the ball middair about three feet into the throw — I don’t think the dog really understands that there should be some running involved before catching. But now he and Steve are best buddies too.
Today, we ran by after finishing speed work at the track, and we saw that the gate to the junkyard was open while the tow truck pushed a car into the driveway. Usually when there is activity there, the dog is nowhere to be seen — I guess they lock him up when they are doing business. But today the dog was loose, and he quickly ran to greet us.
Crazy dog. A woman in the tow truck rolled down the window on the passenger side, and told “Max” to get back in the yard. Next thing I know the dog jumped up on me with two paws and almost knocked me over in what really felt like a hug. Next came the tennis ball.
He follows directions well — Steve and I told the dog to get back in the gate, and he did, we said goodbye, and took off, to finish our run.
“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”
They praying mantis was out again today!
“They say you only get one chance to make a first impression. You also only get one chance to make a last impression. The problem is, you usually don’t know until after the fact when that particular chance has arrived.”
I am torn between two great experiences today — a successful long training run and a surprisingly smooth swim session. I didn’t expect to enjoy either one!
I was pouting when I started the run. Just not in the mood for the session that I was planning. My goal: run two miles easy, then shift into marathon pace for 15 miles, and then cool down with two easy miles home.
I had been planning this run for a few days, and had mapped out in my head where it would take me. Honestly, I had to resort to bribing myself to finally get out the door today — telling myself this surprisingly sunny and warm day might be the last chance for a suntan, and I would get to see the new train tracks again on First Avenue (I didn’t realize I was so fond of trains, but the idea of seeing how the railwork was going did actually help get me outside).
Part of the hesitation was just doubting that I was up for it, especially the idea of testing my planned marathon pace. My goal this year is to run a pace of about 7:35 a mile, which is about my usual on average — OK, 7:35 to 7:45? I would love to finish the marathon this year in about 3 hours, 20 minutes. 3:30 would not disappoint me, but — especially after today’s training run — I think the faster time is possible.
Not that I just zoomed along Red Hook and Sunset Park today at a super marathon pace — there were the usual stops for traffic, turns, distractions — but overall my pace was surprisingly steady. I caught myself going too fast occasionally, especially when I got worked up thinking about work (don’t ask). And when I got worked up thinking about the marathon, and this developing optimism about my time and training this year.
By the time I got to Second Avenue behind Bush Terminal, I was in the zone — happily trotting along — when suddenly … more railwork! More new train tracks! Then around the corner, work was continuing on the track line on First Avenue. I still don’t get it — is there really a new train line going in to connect parts of the waterfront? http://www.nycsubway.org/perl/caption.pl?/img/maps/1888.gif
With the new train to think about — and the idea of running alongside it someday —I continued on down First Avenue to the Brooklyn Army Terminal, and the pier there. For the first time, I saw a fish worth catching — there are always fishermen and fisherwomen on the Brooklyn waterfront, and I have seen a few eating-size fish brought in. But today, the fish that had just been landed was almost three feet long. I don’t know what kind of fish — I searched various images of fish I have heard mentioned in Brooklyn, and none looked the part. I feel I should have stopped by the fish market today and looked at what was for sale. http://www.dec.ny.gov/pubs/77273.html
I usually turn around at the Brooklyn Army Terminal, but I needed a couple more miles to make my 15 at race pace, so I headed farther down Second Avenue along the terminal’s boundary. I went far enough this time to see a park … and a path toward the water. I had always wondered how to get to the pier near Owls Head Park, which I had seen from the Belt Parkway. The pier connects to the beautiful bike and running path along Shore Road, heading toward the Verrazano Bridge. For a moment I felt I should just run to the bridge, but we will be there soon enough with the marathon just over two weeks away.
I turned back, feeling rewarded by the sun, the wind (which made my effort challenging most of the way out, but would be behind me on my return). I took a couple of loops through Owls Head Park, a beautiful little park, similar to Sunset Park since it is high on a hill overlooking the harbor. The crowd is older, though; clearly this is Bay Ridge. http://www.nycgovparks.org/parks/OwlsHeadPark/highlights/151
Finishing the run was easier than starting it. I continued back through Sunset Park, past its industrial sites back into the more sedate Carroll Gardens. I felt, as usual, that perhaps I hadn’t run enough, that one more mile or two would be better, but it was time to finish. I like these specific training sessions, with precise goals — or at least it is suiting me better now as we get closer to the marathon. I want every workout to count toward race preparation, not just to add miles, not just to destress or relax.
I hadn’t initially planned to swim. It didn’t even occur to me until hours after the run. I am off work today (that should be apparent by now), and the pool at the Y is open late. I didn’t know what to expect — I had feared that it would be like learning to swim again, that I would have lost all the skills I worked on. I realize now that this seems silly — I hadn’t swam in several weeks, but it was a great workout. I did one of the base training workouts from my favorite triathlon book, and just practiced drills back and forth for half an hour. The pool was not busy, either, and I had my own lane to enjoy.
I will be very sore tomorrow — maybe more from the swim than the run — but I may be ready to transition back to triathlon training. The breathing felt good, the strokes felt right — maybe running is good for swimming! When I got home I set about another task — pumping up the air in the bike tires. Time to get back in the saddle, soon.
One of the best things about running, is running across unusual sights—especially the quirky little surprises that you could never plan to find. It is mainly happenstance. In the quest to cover 40-50 miles a week, your feet are bound to take you into new terrain, or perhaps it’s just that your senses are more alert and you are listening, seeing, smelling and hearing more stimuli than you can in a car or a bike.
Still, I was surprised to see workers installing a new rail line Saturday on First Avenue near the waterfront in Sunset Park. The rail line stretching from the Brooklyn Army Terminal to the old docks and warehouses is extensive, but looked fairly abandoned to me. There are plenty of old rail cars amid the weeds. But … the rails in the street are real. And the effort to install new rail track is huge. I am still shocked by it. Shiny new rails? Does anyone in Brooklyn really know how to build a railroad? The crew on First Avenue was friendly. I went ahead and ran through the taped off area; cars, trucks and buses meanwhile had to find another route.
I am not sure where this rail track will go, but it looks like it is an upgrade of the track between the Army terminal and the Bush Terminal on Second Avenue. These two buildings are now open to new industrial tenants as part of an effort by the city to reinvigorate industry. And after a search on the web, I found that the First Avenue track is not foreign to modern rail travel. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0z-LtA8pG5s This video from early this summer shows a train running down First Avenue, near the same stretch where the new tracks were being laid this weekend.
My run was a long one — I had several more miles to go and was on my way to the pier at the Brooklyn Army Terminal before turning back to the hills of Sunset Park. Along the concrete pier, I noticed a strange, moving brown thing about the size of my hand — a live crab. It was covered in grit and very dry, and not happy at my efforts to pick it up. I assume it must have fallen from a fisherman’s bait box? Or could it have been caught off the pier? Nonetheless, I tossed it in the water. Whether Buttermilk Channel had crabs before, it has one now.
“We are in danger of ignoring the fact that news doesn’t grow on trees. News, let me remind you, is often something that someone—the rich, the powerful, the privileged—doesn’t want printed. Establishing the truth and accuracy of such news demands considerable resource and resourcefulness and is, frankly, becoming increasingly difficult.”
