Running Shorts

There's an old saying that the marathon consists of two halves: the first 20 miles and the last 6.2. In this edition of LET'S TALK TACTICS, I'm going to argue that that's exactly how you should run your next marathon. Bearing in mind that this is a series dedicated to learning from elite competitors, I want to take a look at two breakthrough races illustrating this tactic: First, Galen Rupp became the first American male to win the Chicago marathon since 2002 (and first American- born  male since 1982), coming through in a time of 2:09:20 -- off of a 1:06:10 first half. That's an incredible negative split, especially when you consider that most of that momentum came during the final 10k -- the second half of the second half. Rupp demolished the field by shifting gears and scorching five straight sub-4:40 miles after mile 21: 4:39, 4:35, 4:30, 4:34, and 4:33. That's a textbook application of this tactic. Just a few weeks later, Shalane Flanagan followed...

Some days you have it, some days you don't. With training and tapering, of course, you hope to have it on race day. On February 13th 2016 in the heat of Los Angeles, I most definitely didn't have it. On a day that was a battle for everybody, I was one of the many riding the struggle bus. About 60 of the 160-ish men that started the race did not finish, myself included. I made it about 10 miles into the race before calling it a day and stepping off the course. I actually felt pretty good on my short warmup jog. I fell into aerobic threshold effort real easy and was primed to go. The first two miles, even in the mass of humanity, were right about where I wanted to be: 5:25 and then 5:18, right on. I latched onto a group that felt like it was going the right effort, ready to hang on for a ride to a solid time. But by the time we got to 10k, I knew I was in trouble. That's a scary feeling when you're hurting and you realize there are still twenty miles left in the ...

I'm not a cyclist. I'm not a cycling fan. I've never ridden in a cycling race, and I couldn't name many of the top cyclists in the world. I spent no more than $250 on a used road bike, which I use more for commuting than training. For 49 weeks out of the year, I could care less about cycling. But for the other three weeks, it's all I have on TV. The Tour de France is awesome, and NBC Sports Network's coverage of it is fantastic -- enough to make a fan out of me, at least for a few weeks. For four to five hours a day, for 21 straight days, they broadcast and cover each stage live. And you're telling me we can do the same thing for two-hour footraces only three times per year? (Chicago, New York, Boston) Here's what, to me, makes the Tour so compelling to watch: 1. The commentators are incredibly well researched and knowledgeable about the race course and the riders in the field. They know everyone and their results (and they let you know), not jus...

So I never actually posted much of a response to the 2013 Boston Marathon, even though I participated in one of the most infamous sports events in recent memory. I'm not really a big fan of rushing to judgment or making quick emotional responses, and in the immediate aftermath of the race every response was bound to be emotional. One year is plenty of time removed from the race, time to gain some perspective on the race itself and aftermath of the race. What are some of the take-aways from the event? 1. Finishing time from last year is irrelevant. After everything that went down, one's finishing time seems wildly insignificant. It just goes to show that there are more important things in the real world than athletic competition. 2a. Boston (and the country, to an extent) rallied around the sports community. We really saw the escapist and healing power of sports. If you've ever wondering why we partake in athletics, we learned why: they put our best qualities on displa...