Questions and Answers

Note: This entry was started on Sun, Oct 16 and finished on Oct 25.

I feel oddly inspired today. I watched several hours of the live Kona Ironman Championships and the fire inside me to begin training has been rekindled. Even the difficult run I had yesterday is offering me encouragement. Training for an Ironman is hard. If it weren’t then many more people would do it. I am glad I stuck through my discomfit yesterday and ran until I passed the 20 mile mark. Now that I did one, I know I can do another. I am setting my sights on doing two more 20 mile runs before the NYC Marathon. This would give me two weeks to taper. I may not be fast, but at least I will have the mileage in.

Today I received an anonymous message from a reader of my blog. The writer wants to know:

How my kids and wife deal with my obsession?
Do I have a job?
When did I first become consumed with exercise?
Do I have any other hobbies?

The writer went on to state that my tales of intensive training make the person want to eat a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and hide under the covers.

I think my children are inspired by my pursuing endurance athletics. My son likes to say how he is my coach. Both of my children are looking for me to bring home awards. Hopefully, my training will encourage them later in life to be physically active. I feel that the time I’ve devoted to training has for the most part has not had a negative impact on them. I always make sure to be home with them on the weekends and I am always home in the evening. I do not hesitate to sacrifice a workout to be with them or make other arrangements in my schedule accommodate my training and my children. On the weekends, even after my longest and hardest training days, I am the one who takes them to the playground, bike riding, etc. Of course, a vicodin and a caffeine pill make this task a helluva lot easier.

My wife tolerates my training. I think she likes to complain about it at times, but in truth, it does not impact her either. It has been on occasion a source of contention between us. She complains that I go to bed too early. The truth about this is that secretly I think she is happy I am in bed well before her. We don’t like to watch the same things on TV and my being asleep allows her complete control over the remote. This is my opinion and I am sure she will deny it. The fact that I am not in heavy training now and staying up later, while she leaves the room is proof enough of this for me. It is also probably proof that not all is perfect in this endurance athlete’s marriage. But then again, whose marriage is perfect? She isn’t into endurance sports and doesn’t understand the appeal for them.

I do have a job. I am the Chief Technology Officer for major real estate brokerage company. I am responsible for the design, delivery, and maintenance of all computer, network and telecommunication systems for around 4000 agents and staff.

10/25/05

Like the incoming and outgoing tides, I have spent periods where I was obsessed with exercise or gone for several years where I let myself get out of shape. This has been going on since I was a teenager. Each one of these cycles lasts longer and I am hoping that this period of being in shape can be sustained for at least the next couple of decades. I feel as though this time around, I have made a fundamental change in the way I pursue health and exercise. Triathlon and fitness has become more of a lifestyle than as an obsession with becoming fit.

I have had several other hobbies throughout my life, each of which was pursued with zealousness. I’ve done scuba diving, golf, fishing, fencing, kite flying, hunting (never killed anything), cycling, mountain biking, photography, model trains and others that I don’t recall. I pursued some of them with intensely, while some were momentary blips in my life.

I think that answers everything. It is time to put this post to rest and start on something else.

A Painful 20 Miles

Today was without a doubt one of the most painful 20 mile runs I have ever done. It was like I never ran anything near this distance. My legs started out feeling slightly painful and that feeling continued throughout the run. If I wasn’t so close to the NYC Marathon, I would definitely have bailed on the idea of completing a 20 miler. However, I knew that if I stood any chance of having a reasonably successful marathon race, I had to get at least one 20 mile run before I showed up at the starting line in Staten Island.

The day was still heavily overcast when I began and my shins were aching considerably. I was a bit surprised that I felt like this, as I took the previous day off and I didn’t feel like I was tired. I guess the run on Thursday took more out of me than I thought. The only good thing about the run was that I was able to complete it in a reasonable amount of time – 3:07:57 and that my HR was good 150/162. I do think my HR was a bit high for the run, but it was considerably breezy and I did take a course that loops up and down many times.

The one particular thing I noticed in Prospect Park this morning was the overwhelming number of people wearing a Jackrabbit logo on their shirt or hat. There were so many of these Jackrabbit logos that if you were unfamiliar with the store on 7th Avenue in Park Slope, Brooklyn, you would think that the symbol was for some weird religious cult. Then again, those who are hooked on endurance athletics do form their own sort of cultish society.

As I finished my run and started walking home, my legs felt completely spent. I went to step up on the sidewalk near my house and almost tripped as I failed to lift my right foot high enough to clear the curb. Getting in my front door was also difficult. The high humidity and rain has caused the door to swell, making it slightly too large for the door frame. It took every last ounce of strength in my body to push it open. Hopefully I won’t feel like this on Marathon Day.

Yom Kippur Marathon

Several weeks ago while riding on the NYC subway, I overheard a couple of religious Jewish men talking about doing a marathon on Yom Kippur. From what I could gather this was an unofficial event held in the town of Monsey, NY. I couldn’t believe my ears, but after listening to them for several minutes I began to realize that these men were talking about an actual event that was to occur sometime after the morning Yom Kippur services.

Later on that day I inquired of my sister that is friendly with some people that live in the Monsey area. She was able to confirm that there is indeed a group of people that participate in a marathon as an extreme show of faith. They do this marathon without food or water in keeping with the scripture of abstaining from all sort of nourishment on this Day of Atonement. This “event” is not publicized, is completely unsupported and no records are kept. There would be no mile markers, no timers, or aid stations. Nothing that would normally accompany a normal marathon. I wondered if it was even possible to do a marathon without food or water and what the attrition rate would be for those who attempted it.

I decided that this would be the kind of event that I would like to try to do. After insisting that my sister gather more information, I found out that the unofficial event would be held around Rockland Lake in Rockland Lake State Park just outside of Monsey starting at high noon. The course would be seven 3.6 mile loops around the entire lake. The late day start would allow for everyone to go to Shul in the morning and would time the race so that the finish would be close to the time when you were allowed to break fast.




On this particular day, Monsey really should have been called Monsoon. The rain came pouring down from the heavens with a ferociousness not seen since the time of Noah. There was no official start. People just showed up around noon and began to run. I have seen many different kinds of running attire on marathoners, but what I saw today really defied description. Men were wearing the traditional Hasidic garb – long black jackets over long dark pants and women wearing long skirts and long sleeve shirts. I felt foolish running in traditional running shorts with a short sleeve shirt. However, I didn’t have religious running attire and I wasn’t going to start wearing it today.




It took me at least 20 minutes into the run before I began to warm up. However, my hands remained cold and I had a feeling this would be the case throughout the run. The course was almost completely flooded and so was the lake. At about 3 miles into the run, I stepped into what appeared to be a shallow puddle. In actuality it was a small pot hole and the side of my left foot caught the edge of it, twisted my ankle nastily. I wondered if this was a reproach from g-d for doing such an event or if he was merely testing my resolve to complete such an endeavor. I made sure to avoid all future puddles.



At about an hour of running I was still feeling pretty good. I had covered a little over 7 miles and I wasn’t feeling particularly hungry or thirsty, but I was completely drenched and my fingers started to wrinkle from all of the rain. The wind would alternatively be in front of me and then behind. I am not sure which I appreciated more. When it was behind me, I had a nice push to help me along, but my eyeglasses would fog up making it difficult to see. When it was in front of me, I had to fight against it, but at least I could see and the water on my face felt refreshing.

As I started to pass the 90 minute mark, I began to develop the first twinges of thirst and hunger. It didn’t help that I forgot to turn off the 20 minute timer on my watch to remind me to take electrolytes and water. The constant 20 minute beeping began to become really annoying as I was repeatedly reminded that I was not allowed to take it any sort of nutrition. I refrained from letting any of the rain water slip into my mouth. I could only hope my body would absorb some water through osmosis.

There was no pack of runners to speak of. Everyone was spread out I was surprised to see how fast that some of the participants could run, especially considering how heavy and wet their clothes must be by now. On the few occasions when I was running next to someone, I would usually be asked similar questions. Are you Jewish? Are you fasting? Were you at Shul this morning? I would answer these same questions repeatedly and I must have heard the words zay gezunt (stay well, good bye) or mazel tov (good luck) a dozen times.

By now I was passing the ten mile mark and I felt a blister developing under my right big toe. My feet were completely water logged and my sneaker would make a hearty sloshing sound every time they hit the ground. There was only one Porta-San along the lake and you had to walk through some heavily muddy grass to get to it. I declined stopping at it for fear of having my sneaker sucked off in the mud.

As I reached the 3 hour mark, I started to become delirious. I was incredibly thirsty and the rain made me think of the saying “water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink”. I stopped looking at my watch, forgot about my distance and just concentrated on moving forward. At 3.5 hours I felt a warm liquid spread through my toes and realized that the blister forming on my foot had burst. This warmth reminded me of the times I pissed in my wetsuit and I decided to do so in my shorts to see if I could warmed my cold and cramping hamstrings. No one would ever be able to tell I took a piss in my pants as no one was really around and the rain water would wash it away in a few moments anyway.

On one of my loops around the lake, I noticed several paramedics from the Hatzollah EMS squad hanging around the course. I was wondering if this even was a workout for them as much as it was for the fanatical participants of this soggy event. I saw another crew somewhere further along the course and they asked me if I was ok. I don’t think I registered that they asked me a question until I was about a quarter mile away from them. I was bordering delirium and hypothermia, but I insisted to myself that I was going to finish this marathon.

One of the biggest mistakes I made during the day was to forget about checking my watch or distance. I was wearing my Polar S625x, so I could have kept track of my distance based on laps completed or distance ran. I had it set for Stopwatch and Lap Timer, but the information was meaningless as I stopped clicking off the laps. At 4 hours and 45 minutes I decided that perhaps it was time to look at it again. I was shocked to see the time and even more shocked that I was well on my way to completing my 8th lap. The distance reading stated 28 miles. I knew this was accurate, since I just synchronized it over Columbus Day weekend at the Red Hook running track in Brooklyn.

There was nothing to do but to continue to the end of the lap. It was the closest way back to my car. Yes, I shouldn’t have been driving to the event, but I didn’t know anyone in Monsey (Monsoon) and frankly I no longer cared about anything. I was deliriously hungry and thirsty and needed to get out of the cold rain. I had brought with me a thermos of hot tea, which I hoped would still be warm. It was getting pretty dark by now and I didn’t care if the sun had not completely set. I needed to get something in my stomach and I needed to warm up quickly. I drank some tea and ate a Vegan Food Bar. I let my seat back and let my eyes close for a moment or two. When I opened them up again, an hour had passed and it was completely dark. I was stiff all over and my legs were agony to move. I didn’t know how I would drive home, but somehow I did.

When I walked in my door, I was still wearing the clothes I had on for the marathon. They were cold and clammy and stuck to me like a second skin. I let them fall into a heap at my doorstep and walked naked into my bathroom. I filled the tub up with warm water and once again fell asleep while I let my body soak in it. Fortunately, neither the rain nor sleeping in the tub caused me to drown. Eventually pulled myself out and went to the kitchen to try to eat some more. I am not sure how I now feel about doing this event. It certainly was an accomplishment, but without any record of it, it is like it never happened. If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it, did it make a sound?

I hope that doing this event wasn’t a sin in the eyes of the almighty. If it is, I guess I can rest in the knowledge that this story was written entirely before Yom Kippur began, so I am already forgiven for this sin.

1st Age Group Award

Today started out with me waking up around 3am. I couldn’t sleep due to a bad headache and a hacking cough invading my lungs. I saw a second doctor about the cough and lung problems I believe I am experiencing. Just as the first doctor concluded, this doctor also feels the cause is most likely from Acid Reflux. I find this as likely as suffering a broken arm from scratching my balls. I guess the doctors have experience diagnosing this type of ailment. To them, if it sounds, acts and looks like a duck, then it must be a duck. I guess my lung problem sounds like the proverbial duck.

Speaking of ducks, today was a fine day to be one. The sun never stood a chance of showing through the thick cloud cover and heavy rains. That didn’t stop approximately 50 athletes from showing up to do Brooklyn’s first multisport event in over 10 years. Today’s Citytri.com Prospect Park Duathlon was the race to break this sad drought.

I suppose we would have had many more participants, if it wasn’t for the fowl weather. However, the crowd that did show up looked quite eager and happy to participate. Personally, I love being outside in the rain. I find it quite pleasant to participate in almost any activity outdoor activity under breezy tropical winds and steady rain.

Once again my friend and rival Super Todd challenged me in the race. Todd was shining off his recent victory over me in last week’s Greta’s Great Gallop Half Marathon. ST cracks me up. At the Greta, no sooner do the words “We are going to run together right” slip out of his mouth, does he start running his ass off as soon as the starter’s horn blows. It was like his ass was on fire and he was in search of water to put it out. He quickly took a lead and finished the race a good 4 minutes ahead of me. Too bad he didn’t join me on my swim from the day before or else the outcome may have been different. He did soundly beat me though as I couldn’t have run faster, even if I wanted.

At today’s race, ST joked about sticking together. There would definitely be none of that today. We were both presumably rested and ready to go. The starter’s horn went off and away we went. ST took an early lead and soon started to pull a sizable distance ahead. With about .5 miles left to the first 3.1 mile run, I was told he had about a 1 minute lead on me. I began to wonder if Todd would be able to maintain his lead throughout the bike. If I wasn’t able to catch him on the bike, I had a feeling I wouldn’t be able to catch him at all.

When I came into the Run/Bike transition, I was almost completely blind. My prescription eyeglasses were completely fogged over and I couldn’t see anything out of them. Adding to my difficulty at this transition, was being unused to a run/bike combination. I haven’t practiced switching from running to biking in quite some time. I just pulled my sneakers off and was about to leave them lying haphazardly, when I realized I would need them again and I better loosen the laces and try to keep them dry. I managed to get my bike shoes on and head out for the ride.

My glasses were still completely fogged over. It would have been really nice to see the leaves blowing and the rain falling. All I could see though was the double white line. For the most part I was riding by myself. My fogged glasses though couldn’t keep me from trying to make out Todd. I did pass people on occasion, but I didn’t see any sign of him until the downhill of the 4th and final bike lap. I was coming up on him fast, when he finally glanced over to see who was on his tail.

I think the feelings going through Todd’s mind when he saw me were shock, dismay and depression. I am certain he felt he saw the last of me at the starting line. I wasn’t sure I would see him again, but I decided to never give up and to keep pedaling to the best of my ability. The work paid off and I was able to pass him and beat him to the transition area by a 10th of a mile.

Todd was yelling out to me that I wasn’t going to beat him and that he would catch me. I ignored him and simply concentrated on running. By now my glasses were completely useless. It was better off running without them, rather than trying to make out anything through the completely fogged over lenses. This made it impossible for me to see the course markings until I was directly upon them. There were volunteers along the course to assist the runners with directions. I had to keep calling out to them to point which way the course went. Unfortunately, they all simply nodded or would make cursory motions as to the direction. I had to yell at them to point with their arms so I had some chance of seeing where I was going.

The course would have been nice to enjoy with good vision. It went over several bridges and under several arches. As the race director promised, we ran through sections of park that most of the Prospect Park regulars never travel. I just saw blurs of grays, greens and browns.

I had long stopped hearing Todd shouting after me and passed several other runners. Sometimes I would think I heard him on my tail, but it was just the sounds of the runners I had passed. Finally, I came upon the final arch that leads to the finish line. I saw a runner heading in the opposite direction on the start of their second run. I asked if they saw anyone behind me and I was pleased to hear that no one was visible for at least 100 yards. I crossed the finish line in what turned out to be 12th place overall and 3rd for my Age Group. This finish earned me my first Age Group award in a multisport event. Todd just missed out, coming in behind me for 4th place.




When I came home from the race, I was able to proudly show off the small trophy I won. My 5 year old son Lucas took complete credit for me winning it. He feels that it was his coaching advice that allowed me to win an award and that he is a much better than my other coach. Maybe it is my son’s coaching, since before he started to offer me advice I had yet to win an award.

Swinburne Island

Swinburne Island is the smaller of two artificial islands located in the Lower New York Bay (the other being Hoffman Island) that were used to quarantine immigrants to the U.S. that were found to have been carrying contagious diseases upon arrival at Ellis Island. The island is of artificial origin, and was originally called Dix Island, but was renamed in honor of Dr. John Swinburne (May 30, 1820-April 4, 1889), a noted military surgeon during the American Civil War.



The island is about 1.75 miles out into the lower Hudson Bay from South Beach Staten Island. On Saturday - October 1, 2005, I swam to this island with my friends Sondra and Jason. Jason had agreed to this swim after I informed him that it would take less than one hour to do it and that the venture was perfectly legal. However, during the drive to the beach, Jason mentioned his surprise that what we were about to attempt wasn’t prohibited. Upon hearing this, Sondra quickly pointed out that what we intended to do was very much against the law and that you are not allowed to swim out past a set distance from shore. I think at this point Jason's committment for the adventure begain to waiver. I on the other hand couldn’t have cared less about its legality. As far as I was concerned, this is a free country and if I wanted to swim away from it, then it was entirely my prerogative to do so.



We were supposed to start the swim at 1:30pm, but unfortunately our kayaker escorts were delayed from the Downtown Boathouse by heavy winds blowing in from sea. Instead we started our swim around 2:30pm when the tide already started pushing towards shore.

Originally, I estimated that the swim would take approximately 45 minutes, providing we set out during slack tide. However, the current was well on its way in and we had to fight against the current and the wind for the entire swim. When I swam to Hoffman Island several weeks ago, it took me about 26 minutes to reach it. Swinburne sits almost directly in line with Hoffman and by 40 minutes I still hadn’t passed it. The first doubt as to whether this swim would be possible crossed my mind.

I was guided by a couple of kayakers, but primarily by a guardian angel named Diane. By keeping Diane a set distance to my right, I was able to simply concentrate on swimming. It would have been much more difficult to do this swim if I had to do it without a kayaker to navigate. The water had a lot of chop that came right into you, so sighting forward wasn’t easy. Since we were swimming directly away from shore, we didn’t have any landmarks except for Hoffman Island; and truthfully I didn’t want to look at Hoffman, because it seemed as though I would never pass it.



Every now and then I would pause to see how much distance to Swinburne remains. At times I felt like I was making progress, but at others it felt like I hadn’t moved an inch. I was beginning to wonder if I was making negative progress and if Sondra and Jason were still making the attempt. I was well ahead of them and I began to worry if the current wasn’t causing them to make negative progress. I know I was worried that I wasn’t moving, but Diane kept assuring me I was doing well.

During the course of the swim, I would on occasion concentrate on increasing the force and turnover of my stroke. These surges were born out of the frustration at not making any visible progress. It also helped break up the monotony of the slow pace and I was able to challenge myself to surge ahead of the kayakers.

I tried to limit the number of times I would look up towards the island. The apparent lack of progress was demoralizing and the unchanging view was not getting me to the island any sooner.

Eventually I was able to make out the individual rocks that formed the seawall around the island. After 1 hour of swimming, I found this encouraging and began another surge. Diane kept offering encouragement and told me I was doing great.

Finally the island was only 100 yards ahead. A couple of the kayakers with me went ahead to scout out a landing area. As I was swimming these final yards, you could see the ocean bottom starting to rise up. I was surprised, because I expected the water to be relatively deep until you came right up onto the island. I reached the rocks of the island at 1 hour and 18 minutes.

The tide had come in enough, so that no beach was visible. I climbed out of the water over the rocks and quickly grabbed something to eat and drink. We landed on a bunch of rocks that formed a small finger out into the water. The kayakers floated around while we discussed how best to secure the boats while we went exploring. Eventually we decided to haul the kayaks up onto the rocks so they were out of the water completely. Fortunately, I didn’t feel tired at all and I was able to help them bring all of the boats ashore.

The kayaker crew and I sat around the rocks having snacks and drinking various beverages. Diane provided me with some beef jerky that was very tasty after all of the salt water I swallowed for the past hour. I snapped a few pictures of the island and the views from it, while we waited for Sondra and Jason to arrive. I wanted to wait to go exploring until everyone came ashore.

Sondra, Jason and their kayak escorts arrived about 45 minutes from the time I came ashore. I was afraid of what Jason might say, as I knew my original calculation of 45 minutes was well off what he envisioned. Jason was a bit speechless after he arrived and I couldn’t help laughing over the thoughts that must have been going through his mind. Sondra I knew would be content with arriving and really wouldn’t have cared how long it would take.

After everyone was safely ashore, warmed up and fed, we began our exploration. The island has the remains of several buildings that appeared to be used as small barracks or hospital wards. The place also had a very rich smell of seagull guano. It was all over the rocks and when the breeze died down you could smell it quite profusely.



We found Heron nests scattered about in the trees, wild vegetation, a few trees and lots of scrub brush. It appeared that there were blueberries growing from several bushes, but Diane advised me against eating them.

After a short while, Tim the lead kayaker called us to cease our exploration as it was time to head back. It was after 5pm in the evening and we had to pack everything, launch the boats and get the swimmers back to Staten Island. The kayak crew still had to get to the downtown boathouse up the Hudson River.

The swim back was quick. Soon after I started swimming, I could already see Hoffman Island. The current was really pushing and I made it back to shore in 45 minutes. We didn’t delay on the shore as it was really starting to get dark and we were getting cold once we got to shore. We said our goodbyes and waved to our kayaking friends as they set sail for home under the Verrazano Bridge.

You can see all of the photos from the adventure by clicking here: