Home meet at Vassar Farm: A note on parking

We are eagerly anticipating our home meet on Saturday morning at Vassar Farm in Poughkeepsie. Men's 6km race is at 9 a.m.; women's 5km race is at 9:45 a.m. Senior day festivities will follow shortly after the conclusion of the women's race. We expect six teams to compete, three D1 and three non-D1: Fairfield, Iona and Marist (D1); Hunter College, LIU Post (CW Post) and Post (CT) University (non-D1). The team scoring will be separate D1 and non-D1.

Vassar cross country coach James McCowan asked me to stress to all friends, family and visiting teams that parking will be at a premium at Vassar Farm, due to a multitude of activities there on Saturday morning. Here is a direct quote from an email that James sent to me: "That means we'll be parking all school buses/vans and spectator cars on the upper fields by Vassar Road, or possibly across the street at South Lot on Vassar campus." We will attempt to have a shuttle van to transport those who cannot walk the distance to the course area at the Farm.

We look forward to seeing everyone there.

Tailgating at Vassar Farm

With the beginning of our cross country season less than a week away, it’s time to get into that regular season mode. Thanks to Palmer Weimann’s mom, Martha, for volunteering to be the point person for our team tailgate on Saturday at Vassar Farm. She e-mailed me to let family members and friends know that if they want to contribute or coordinate with her for the tailgate, that they should email her at whctgirl@gmail.com or call/text her at 860 803 8198. “Looking forward to seeing the Marist family again!” she emailed. Same here. 

Hawker’s birthday run

Congratulations to sophomore Matthew Hawker, who turned 19 yesterday. And in the fine tradition of Marist Running, he decided to run his birthday in miles. He did a 14-mile long run – our traditional, end-of-preseason long run from Marist, to Vassar Farm, loop around the farm, and back to Marist – and then later in the day did a 5-mile double, for 19 miles. While on its face this seems a bit extreme, it may be even more so considering that Hawker was a sprinter back in high school, before Marist Running Alum Nick Hughes coached him and moved him up to the 800 meters. Hawker has been known to exhibit questionable judgment in training at times – his unofficial motto would seem to be, “if something’s worth doing, it’s worth overdoing” – but that sometimes reckless nature endears him to his teammates and to me. So, was it the smartest thing for Hawker to do 19 miles on his birthday? Of course not! But we’re proud of him nonetheless. 

Forever Foxes in Roslyn

Thanks to Bianca Luparello for sending me this photo and text of her and Mark Valentino, both proud Marist Running Alums now making a difference for young athletes at Roslyn High School on Long Island. Here’s what Bianca texted me: “The face of Roslyn athletics. Mark teaches math and coaches XC and I’m their new athletic trainer! Foxes forever.” Indeed! 

Bob Sweeney: An epic trail run

Major kudos to my old friend and loyal team supporter and follower Bob Sweeney on his incredible race at the Leadville Trail 100 in Colorado. Considered one of the more grueling trail 100-milers out there – it’s been called the Race Across the Sky, with mind-numbing elevations between 9,000 and more than 12,000 feet -- Bob put together one of the more remarkable races in what has been a long and noteworthy running career. Bob placed seventh overall out of nearly 300 finishers, ran 19 hours, 33 minutes, 14 seconds – improving his best on this course by more than an hour (previous best = 20:51), won the 50-59 division, and ran the third fastest 50-plus time in race history. 

Happy 18th birthday

On my 18^th birthday, nearly 35 years ago to the day, in 1982, I was a skinny and scared freshman at Marist College. I was 90 miles from home. While not exactly “home sick,” I was definitely out of sorts – the first time away from home for an indefinite period. These feelings are so common as to span countless generations. I recently spoke with an old Marist alum, about five years older than me, and he described the combination of homesickness, loneliness and fear as he sat in his Leo Hall dorm room and cried, during the early days of his tenure at Marist. More than 40 years later, he’s well into middle age and his two sons are Marist alums, successful in their young adult lives already.

On that long-ago date, August 31, 1982, my older brother Rich surprised me by driving up from New Jersey to Poughkeepsie. He took me across the street to Skinner’s, a long since demolished pub that squatted on the corner of Route 9 and Fulton, where the Beck Place lot now resides (side note: Is the Internet amazing, or what? Check out this vintage photo I found of the Skinner’s sign …). Old Marist alums will regale you with stories of how much time they spent at Skinner’s or its predecessor, Frank’s. That night, I had a burger, some fries and my first legal alcoholic beverage, a Budweiser draft (yes, back then the drinking age was 18). Although I had been at Marist for a little more than a week, I still had that uneasy feeling in my gut, so common among 18-year-olds starting this new journey. Having my older brother there – and buying me a beer -- was a brief respite from this, and it kind of normalized the birthday for me.

Fast forward to 2017. Our oldest son, Joey, starts classes at Stony Brook University on Monday morning. Today, Sunday, is his 18^th birthday. He’s 130 miles away from home, on a new campus and a new dorm room. In 1982, we did not have the magic of cell phones, texting, Facetime, Twitter. So, although we are not there with him in person, we are able to wish him a Happy Birthday from afar. There were no trips to any Long Island pubs from his old man; alas, the drinking age is now 21. We wonder and fret if he is home sick, lonely, scared, as he marks his 18^th birthday at Stony Brook; he sounds OK over the phone. Dropping him off on Friday was a bit more emotional than even I anticipated. Of course, we are not the first parents (and kid) to feel this way; of all people, I should know this. But it’s one thing to witness it and counsel others and it’s another thing entirely to experience it. I suppose it’s all part of the parenting process – a never-ending journey that continues to provide new twists and turns with each passing day.

For more than a decade now, Joey hasn’t been one to “celebrate” his birthday in the traditional sense. Oh sure, he likes receiving gifts, especially of the monetary variety. But he doesn’t eat cake or other sweets; there would not have been 18 candles on anything today, had he been home to celebrate. So, getting all mushy over the kid not being here at home can seem a bit melodramatic. But still … it’s odd. Not having him around the house … it’s odd. It’s a new transition, for us as parents, for us as a family. The 18^th birthday, at the beginning of a new school year. Yeah. I remember that. Happy birthday, kid. We miss you.

Here comes the sun ...

The old pediatrician was near retirement. Before him were a newborn baby and a pair of nervous and scared first-time parents. He probably faced this scene hundreds and hundreds of times, yet he met us with compassion and patience that morning as he had to tell us that our perfect little bundle of joy had a slight issue that is oh-so-common among newborns. But the aging doctor had a significant speech impediment – he was a stutterer. He couldn’t get the word out: J-jjj … J-jjj … J-jjj … finally, “jaundice.” Such an ugly word, usually reserved for old people whose internal organs are failing. Our baby boy Joey has “jaundice?” Remember, this was 1999. Heidi and I, new parents terrified by such things, didn’t have the luxury of pulling out our smart phones and typing “jaundice in babies” into Google, and finding out that this is a very common and very benign condition. The old doc told us not to worry, just make sure the little guy got some natural sunlight – put him on the floor in a sunny room and read to him.

Put him on the floor in a sunny room and read to him. Even an idiot like me can figure this one out. So we put our newborn kid on the floor, I pulled out the sports section of Dutchess County’s finest daily newspaper, and I read to him. I think I read the boxscores of baseball games from the night before. Whatever. Didn’t matter. This week-old kid, basking in the sun, is just hearing my voice. Even after the j-j-j-jaundice subsided, this was a ritual I continued for at least the next several weeks or more, if I recall. That was almost exactly 18 years ago. Now, today, we are bringing our son – that helpless little kid -- away to college. Look. It’s not like he’s going to Mars, or even California. Stony Brook is a relatively easy (traffic-permitting) drive away. But the significance of this moment in time is not lost on any of us. I’d like to think we are a close family. Oh sure, we have our share of dysfunction – what family doesn’t? – but we usually have dinner together most nights and we generally enjoy each other’s company. So this is a big day, a memorable day – full of excitement and sadness mixed together in a jumbled, confusing mess.

How many times have I been on the other side of this, as teary-eyed parents drop off their kids with me for the beginning of preseason cross country camp in August? Like that long since retired doctor, hundreds of times. Now that the shoe is on the other foot, now that I’m on this side of the steering wheel, it’s definitely, um, different. The car is packed, we’re ready to bring him. In the rearview mirror will be a childhood full of memories; the road ahead is filled with endless possibilities. Sadness and excitement.

Preseason 2017: Eclipse

The partial eclipse was all the rage this afternoon. Many athletes, coaches and administrators congregated in front of the McCann Center to check it out. Riley Hughes, XC team junior and unofficial Eclipse Enthusiast, was quite the popular one as he came prepared with his "eclipse glasses," which he graciously shared with one and all. Here's a photo he took through the lens of the eclipse glasses. It didn't really get all that dark out there, in fact it was barely noticeable. But through these fancy glasses, which he got for free at his local public library, we were all able to witness this incredible event of natural beauty. Very, very neat.

Bee better? If the shoe fits ...

Thanks to Kathy Smith, Walkway Over the Hudson Board of Directors and Ambassador Volunteer, for sending me this photo along with this email and link:

Pete…thought of you when I bought my first pair of Bombas socks.  Bombas is a company that makes great socks and donates a pair of socks to someone in need, for every sock that is purchased.

The phrase on the inside of the top of the sock says ‘Bee Better”….your famous quote to your athletes!

https://bombas.com/pages/about-us?gclid=CjwKEAjwierMBRCHiZ6yuoCJi3ISJAB5fYuBh1vC65ROvrc57evOcHAJjGsDULV75FF5J9ux8e3VVxoCgfXw_wcB

Preseason 2017: Face painting fun

Thanks to Coach Chuck for sharing this fun photo of the women's team enjoying some team bonding on Sunday night.

Posch/Gould wedding: Forever Foxes ...

Group shot of the our beloved Forever Foxes, and a final shot with the awesome couple (and their old, balding coach) at the end of a sweaty and truly memorable and incredible night. Nicely done!

Posch/Gould wedding: First dance and sunset

Billy and Kelley's first dance, and a glimpse of the sunset from outside the wedding reception tent. This beautiful sunset belied the stormy weather that preceded it. Nothing could dampen the festive spirit of this night, though!

Posch/Gould wedding: Lane assignments!

Upon arriving at the reception, this old track coach was thrilled beyond belief to see the running themes. Here, the guest table cards were done with hip numbers -- actual hip numbers that you would wear in a track race! -- and each table number was a bib number that said "Posch Invitational" on it. So cool. So very cool!

Posch/Gould wedding: Young wedding crashers

Here's a photo of the beaming bride after the wedding ceremony in the Marist chapel, surrounded by former middle school students and friends (including my daughter Natalie, far left). She was thrilled to see her former students attend the wedding Mass. Don't worry. The young'uns were NOT at the reception!

Posch/Gould wedding: Last single run

The man of the hour (Billy Posch, center) went for one final run as a single man with some of his close friends and Marist Running Alums, on Friday morning before the wedding ceremony and reception later in the day. They ran from Marist, across the Walkway, as they have done hundreds of times. Reminded me of my "last single run" 22 years ago, and Heidi even made a T-shirt (of course) to commemorate that occasion. Neat.

Preseason 2017: The shape of success

For this morning's practice, we brought the team over to Vassar Farm and Ecological Preserve for an easy run on the course we will be using for our "home" meet, which is two weeks from today (hard to believe). It was a blazing hot morning, the first really hot day for running that we can remember in quite a while. Fortunately, this morning's run was relatively short. It was delightful to see the above (as well as other) sculpture along or near the XC course at the Farm. I recall Marist Track Alum Peter VanAken telling me about this project -- called "Art on the Farm Outdoor Sculpture Show" (check out their Facebook page and "like" it!) -- which runs from July 1 through October 29. This happened to be my favorite sculpture of the ones that I saw. I look forward to exploring the course and finding them all, and I encourage you to do so the next time you are at Vassar Farm.

Preseason 2017: Begin the begin

Things have been a bit frenetic here at Blog Central the past few days, as you'll see in the coming posts. The beginning of preseason XC camp is always busy. Mix in the #ohmyposch wedding of Marist Running Alums Billy Posch and Kelley Gould -- now Mr. and Mrs. Posch! -- on Friday night, and it has made for a joyous and truly memorable several days. Attached is a combined men's and women's XC team photo -- that's a lot of red and white there, and they have already logged a lot of miles in a few short days. The work is just beginning and we are thrilled and pumped to have our men and women back on campus to Begin the Begin.

Truth serum

The question came completely out of the blue, and so too did my answer. I was meeting with a prospective student-athlete (recruit), a rising high school senior touring colleges during the summer. I’ve lost track of the number of these types of meetings I’ve had in the past few weeks – it’s what I do during the summer, because it’s what they (high school kids) do during the summer. I always end the meetings with the generic, “do you have any other questions for me?” line. Most of the time, there are no additional questions after we have talked extensively for an hour or more, as we did in this case. But this kid came up with a doozy, something like this: “Coach, you’ve been doing this a long time, 27 years. What keeps you motivated, energized and wanting to come back for more?”

On the heels of the beginning of preseason today, my response was something like this. I told him that as preseason beckons, I have a feeling of dread and sadness (No. Wait! Keep reading, please!). That feeling comes from the impending and sudden loss of virtually unlimited time I can spend with my family, during the summer months. Oh sure, there is work to be done during the summer, again much of it revolving around recruit meetings and the like, and most days I can be found puttering around the McCann Center for at least a few hours. But starting today, the balance of my hours and my days will be focused on the team and the three-season ride that will continue virtually unabated for the next nine months. As I’m saying this to the kid and his parents, truth serum coursing through my veins, I’m thinking to myself, “You idiot! Don’t you want this kid to at least APPLY here?” But then I added the following: Once my team and our athletes start walking through the door, the dread and sadness are instantly replaced by joy, excitement and anticipation of what lies ahead. And, I told the kid, when I stop feeling that, it’ll be time to think about walking into the sunset. But I’m nowhere close to that stage. On Monday, as I spent a few hours with Rizzo, unpacking and sorting the boxes of gear that will be handed out to the team today (“Coach! It’s like Christmas morning!” Rizzo exclaimed in his usual way), and we talked about preseason and the upcoming year, the juices started flowing and I was anxiously anticipating the arrival of the team. 

So now, it’s time to pack up and head into McCann and start the machine again. Year 27, here we come. Let’s go.  

One day in Pittsfield: It doesn’t have to be fun …

I think I’ve written this before, so I apologize in advance for the repetition (on many levels). And yes, this is my one and only “race report” post of the year, similar to last year’s very wordy recap. I’ll try to be more succinct this time. I’m already not doing a good job of that. Anyway, here’s how I was going to start this post: When people I haven’t seen in a while ask me, “hey Pete, you still running?” … my reflexive answer is, “Nah, not really.” Which, if you really think about it, is true. Sure, I have my early-morning run partners, who I meet twice a week – in a good week, maybe three times. Other than that, when I get up early in the morning, the preferred mode of ambulation is walking instead of running. So am I “Once a Runner,” like the title of the famous book? Pretty much, yeah.

I say “pretty much” because for one day each year – a Saturday in August, in Pittsfield, Massachusetts – I take part in an 8-hour, fixed-time ultramarathon called the “Sweltering Summer Ultra” on a dirt “track” (it’s a stretch to call it a track, see pre-race photo above after a night of heavy rain) at Clapp Park in the Berkshire city that’s about 85 miles from home. As race director Benn Griffin calls it, it’s a day for the “Laps of Clapp” – a neat community of runners, joggers and walkers, united and bound by the spirit of community service, movement and camaraderie, from 7 a.m. to 3 p.m. on a summer Saturday. Benn does a great job of fostering this community feel through his many Facebook posts throughout the year on the race’s FB page; also, this is part of the BURCS ultramarathon series, which adds to the communal aspect to the event. It’s my fifth year doing it; I’m only one of three who have participated in every edition of the race. God willing, I’ll go back every year.

The one day in Pittsfield is MY one day every year. For the other 364 days, my world generally revolves around the movement of others: My Marist teams, my alumni runners, my children’s teams, my family’s myriad activities. I say this with not a hint of bitterness; in fact, I revel in this stage of my life, where I am a chauffeur (and coach) for wonderful Marist athletes and alums, and compliant driver/cheerleader for my family members. On Saturday, for once, I was not the audience, I was the participant.

As I wrote last year, my primary goal with this event is to complete 74 laps, which equals a marathon. It extends my streak of completing one marathon per year, now at 31 years. Beyond that, there are other goals: 88 laps is 50 kilometers (31 miles), 100 laps is, well, 100 laps (35.53 miles) – each lap is precisely .3553746428 of a mile, 113 laps (40 miles), and so on. Last year, if you’ll recall, I covered 99 laps, and received much good natured ribbing from my family for not getting into triple digits. So, that was a last goal to achieve for this year, 100 laps. Of course, upon arriving at Clapp Park at around 5:30 a.m., after a night of heavy rain, a good portion of the “track” was under water. Yikes! Fortunately, it didn’t rain for the entire eight hours, but for the first few hours, that section of the course was really slick. Being a Falling Hazard, I nimbly tip-toed that section each lap until the blazing sun dried it out.

OK, the stats: I completed 109 laps, for a total of 38.7358360652 miles. I was able to achieve my jog/walk homeostasis, covering 55 laps in the first 4 hours and 54 laps in the second 4 hours. That’s as close to even pacing as you’ll get in these type of races. My marathon “split” was around 5:16 and my 50km split came about an hour later (6:19, if I vaguely recall through squinty/sweaty eyes). Other than a few quick trips to the Port-o-potty, I didn’t stop moving (see "action" shot, I'm the schmoe in the tube socks), nor did I leave the course for one moment. This represents a 10-lap improvement from 2016, and I have decided to call it my first “post-surgery PR.” I briefly flirted with the idea of approaching 40 miles, but honestly there was no physical way I could have gone any faster (“faster”? … this isn’t exactly fast moving) than I did. My last lap was completed with 45 seconds to spare (no partial laps were counted), so I definitely got my money’s worth and trashed my body to the fullest extent possible.

As my good pal Krys Wasielewski has been profoundly saying all summer: “It doesn’t have to be fun to be fun.” And that summarizes my day in Pittsfield. So now, it’s time for me to slink back to my proper place on the sidelines (or behind the wheel) for another 364 days, and hopefully I’ll be back to Clapp for another year of (at least 74) laps next summer.

Foxes in Peru: Quite a wake-up call

How's this for a view from your tent ... wow!

Foxes in Peru: Colorful glaciers

Colorful glaciers on Day 6 of the trek ...

Foxes in Peru: Reppin' the red ...

Our three ladies, proud of their program, on the last day of their trek.

Foxes in Peru: The view from the clouds

I've been meaning to post the following information and photos for weeks/months now. Thanks to rising senior captain Jenna Robinson for sharing the amazing story and even more amazing photos from Peru, where she spent several weeks with rising sophomores Boushra Belkhir and Alyssa Lafave. Here is some of the email Jenna sent to me way back in June. Better late than never!

Boushra, Alyssa, and I completed a trek of more than 50 miles last week around the Ausungate Mountains in Peru. The very first day of the trek, we encountered a several-hour snow blizzard in which we had to literally wrap Boushra in different people's clothing to prevent her from freezing. Both Boushra and Alyssa did extremely well on the trek, always hiking in the front of the group as if they were accustomed to the high altitude. I on the other hand suffered some impairing altitude sickness on the first two days. We saw many different wild animals including alpacas, chinchillas, vicunas, and many more! We also slept next to glaciers each night, which was wild. One night I woke up to the sound of an avalanche. We were far enough away that I felt safe, but the shear sound of the crashing ice and snow was enough to give me the chills!

The highest pass we climbed through was at 5,100 meters, or 16,732 feet. CRAZY. Boushra was conducting a study throughout the trek which measured our heart rates and specific oxygen in our blood as we climbed to different altitudes. My resting heart rate was consistently at or over 100, while my spO2 was in the low 70s. Keep in mind, it is standard in the US to give oxygen to an individual with spO2 levels below 95 (said the two EMTs on the trek with us). 

It was SUCH a humbling experience climbing through these mountains. Seeing the native people, animals, and ecosystems taught us a lot about the delicate balance of life! I have attached a few of my favorite images from the trek of Boushra, Alyssa, and me. The photo (above) of the three of us with the snow capped mountain and sun behind us was at 5,000 meters above sea level. It is hard to tell but the wind was SO strong that we could barely stand for this picture.

From Eamonn: Getting ready for preseason on Selden Hills

Thanks to rising junior Eamonn Beers for sending me this photo from Long Island, where he did a 6.2-mile training run called "Seldon Hills" ... looks pretty lonely and hilly, for sure. Eamonn said he sought out the hilly terrain in preparation for Minnewaska, Farm Lane and other rolling runs we do during preseason, which unbelievably starts next Wednesday already. Where did the summer go?

From Hillman: Postcards from Yosemite

Thanks to rising junior Dan Hillman for sending me these photos from his family vacation to Yosemite. The scenery brings back memories of our trip to Yosemite last year during USATF Juniors. Good stuff.

From Christine: Postcards from Hawaii

Thanks to Marist Running Alum Christine Coughlin for sending multiple photos from Hawaii, where she has accepted a post-collegiate teaching position. She sent numerous amazing pictures, but of course being the turtle lover that I am I had to lead with the sea turtle. To the left is a picture of Christine and her friend Brianna repping the Foxes with a world-class view. She sent many more but this is a small sampling. We are very proud of Christine as she continues her professional career -- far, far away from home.

Middle-aged dessert

Thanks to Mr. Bucket for sharing this photo of the 50th birthday cake for our mutual friend Michel Joseph. Like Mr. B, Michel is a proud member of the "Middle Aged Machines" runners, a group of 40/50 something guys who train and race together. This is one of the most awesome birthday cakes I've ever seen. Aside from the obvious Boston Marathon theme, it has all of his marathons and times listed in the frosting. Very neat. Here's hoping for many more marathons (and many more birthday cakes) for Michel.

View from the track series

Thanks to our good friend from the Mid-Hudson Road Runners Club for sharing this photo of me and my daughter Natalie from the last week of the Summer Track Series. Natalie is not a runner (unfortunately, she has adopted some of her father's running "form" flaws), but as a swimmer and a rower, running is good "cross training" for her. She doesn't really "enjoy" running either. Again, fine with me. I'm happy being a "swim dad" -- as my car magnet attests.

Hilltopper Half Marathon: Marist Running takes over

We’ve written about the Hilltopper Half Marathon before. It’s a low-key, 13.1-mile race out in central Dutchess County, organized and run by our good friends in the Junk Yard Dogs running club. The course is quite hilly, rural and scenic. I’ve often said that you see more cows and livestock than cars on the rural roads on an early Sunday morning. Connie Seigh has had the race record – men and women – for years at 1:25:30, and it has always been a goal to have some of our Marist Running family to get up early and get out there to run it. This year, it was mission accomplished, as Billy Posch (1:19) and Omar Perez (1:21) went 1-2 and easily set a new race standard. Kelley Gould (1:42) was the women’s winner and Catherine Ferreri (1:53) was third. Very impressive run for all of them, but especially Catherine, a middle distance runner in college who has really taken to the longer distances. And it was a beautiful, cool morning with low humidity. Great run for them all.  

This dad's a trail maven

Congrats to Joe Gorberg, father of Marist Running Alum Bryn Gorberg, for his fantastic finish at the Escarpment Trail Run, a gnarly 30-kilometer race that covers some of the most challenging terrain in the Northeast. Joe placed 75th out of nearly 300 entrants in 4:15:01. More importantly! He was smiling at the finish and had no broken bones, although Bryn said he did take several falls during the race (very common). Bryn reported via text that he had "about 5 complete falls, 10 saves and rolled his ankle a couple of times" along with a "gnarly cut" to prove he was a finisher. Sounds about right. My morning jogging buddies also completed the race, and have had plenty of stories to tell about it. Schneider ("the mayor") said "never again" about 20 times during our 7-mile run this morning. Unlike after his first marathon? I think he really means it after his 6-hour ordeal in the woods. But, like Mr. Gorberg, he lived to talk about it. Nicely done.

Nationally ranked ... in something!

The USTFCCCA released its All Academic teams for track and field and our men and women were well represented, with team GPAs of 3.44 (minimum standard = 3.00). Digging deeper into the numbers, we determined that our men's GPA was the sixth (6th!) highest in NCAA Division I, and thanks to GoredFoxes.com for recognizing this. Pretty neat.