It’s so easy dressing for summer runs. Since we can pretty much guarantee warm temperatures, we never really have to consider anything other than shorts and a tech shirt. For me, starting in April or May, I go with singlets (or “tank tops,” although I can’t say for sure if there’s really a difference between the two). Because I run so much in hot weather, it’s nice having something that wicks moisture and keeps me (somewhat) cooler.

I don’t know why I didn’t start wearing singlets sooner; they’re fantastic. (Of course, I don’t have the body of a traditional long-distance runner, so maybe I had to learn not to be so self-conscious.) I look back at some old race photos and really wonder what I was thinking for my wardrobe!

Now that we’re into November, I have to think about how much longer I can continue wearing singlets. I’ve worn one throughout the fall, and even over my last few long runs, I haven’t had any problem staying warm. Of course, fall will eventually turn to winter, and having such an exposed upper body will no longer be an option. But at what point does it become too cold to wear a singlet?

When Jen and I ran the Wineglass Marathon in early October, we both wore a singlet—even though the temperature at the start was in the 30’s (definitely winter-like). However, it turned out to be a PLEASURE because it warmed up to the upper 50’s by the time we finished, and I never felt uncomfortable take-my-muffin-fan-site.com.

We stock up on Walmart’s $3 blankets to use as throwaways before races

When we ran the Walt Disney World Marathon last January, it was also in the 30’s at the start. (Yes, FLORIDA—it’s funny how temperatures can fluctuate at that time of the year.) But for the first 10 miles or so, I was so cold in my costume—a short-sleeved shirt and shorts—that at one point my fingers went numb. (Note: The race starts at 5:30 a.m.)

Fortunately, 7+ hours later, temps had warmed up quite a bit… 😉

So it’s hard to say what’s too cold and what’s not. Of course, when running in the cold, we can just keep ourselves warm with layers and remove items if we get too hot. But the thing with me is that if I layer, I’ll rarely take the layers off. I’d rather not tie shirts around my waist or have to head home (or my car) to shed them. On the flip side, if I choose to wear less clothing, I run the risk of having a chilly, unpleasant run.

Recently, during some of my short, midweek, morning runs, I’ve had to put on a long-sleeved shirt. I’m not complaining because I much prefer the cooler weather. But with fall weather constantly changing, especially as it warms up from morning to early afternoon, it’s becoming tougher to plan for the start AND the later part of run.

Jen and I have one more big race lined up this fall—the Manchester City Marathon & Half Marathon in New Hampshire—and I imagine I’ll transition away from singlets soon after that. I really prefer to wear one in the race, since that’s what I’ve been training in for the last few months (and I DON’T want to overdress). If the temperature is going to reach the 50’s, I think I’ll go with a singlet, even if it’s supposed to be cold at the start. (That sort of answers the question in this blog’s title.)

Photo credit: http://www.millenniumrunning.com

I’ll bring plenty of backup options, though. Maybe a sleeveless shirt. Perhaps a short-sleeved shirt for more coverage. We’ll see. But if it’s too cold to wear shorts, then I KNOW I’ll have to keep my singlet in my suitcase.

Thanks for reading,

Todd

It’s obvious that both of us like to run, but did you know that another member of our family is also a big runner? Our dog, appropriately named Miles, loves getting some exercise out on the roads.

And at the beach…

If you read Jen’s old blog, The Final Forty, you know that we got Miles a few years ago, and quickly he showed off his athletic prowess. We started off slowly with him, only incorporating short running spurts into his regular walks. But then he wanted to go longer and faster and more often. Jen says she always knew he was “our dog,” and his running proves that unequivocally.

Definitely our dog ❤

As a spaniel/shih tzu mix, Miles has the ability to run without getting worn out all that quickly. You can say he’s both a sprinter AND a distance runner; he can bust it for a few blocks, often dragging one of us along the way, or he can take on a jogging pace and keep it for well over a mile. Of course, his “jog” is usually way faster than either of us would normally go.

After one of our first runs with our new puppy

But even though Miles is a fast, fit, and friendly pooch, he does quite a few things that runners shouldn’t do. Of course, his body type (and number of legs) differs from us, but all of us can take some advice from him on what NOT to do when going out for a run:

1. Be impatient. Really, we just have to ask Miles if he wants to run, and he goes bananas. He gets SO excited, yet he often can’t contain that excitement. He’ll whimper and whine and then get frustrated if we keep him waiting for more than a few seconds. There are also times when he DEMANDS a run; he’ll just stop short during his walk, and the only way to get him to move is to offer to run.

• Analysis: Obviously, Miles can’t just go out and run whenever he wants, so we understand why he gets impatient. But you, the runner who typically can head out whenever he/she pleases, should be very careful about not getting too overzealous. If you can’t run as long or as fast as you want right now, try not to let it beat you up. Progress will come. If you’re injured, don’t try to push it too quickly just so you can get out there. And if you’re training for a race, don’t let your anticipation get the better of you by making up missed runs or doing more than you’re capable of.

Sometimes it’s best to just take a leisurely walk in the park

2. Go out too fast. On occasion, Miles will join us for the first mile of our long run. (He really does have good stamina.) But sometimes, he books it immediately, and we’re scrambling just to keep up with him. We know he looks at this as a special opportunity, and it’s obvious that he has a lot of energy. But whenever he goes out too fast, he eventually gets tired, and his hard effort turns into a slow trot or just a walk. (He’ll then be sleepy throughout the day.)

• Analysis: Like Miles, you probably enjoy running, and you want to look strong while you do it. And in a race environment, it’s natural that you want to get off to a good start and not let other runners pass you by. But eventually, you’ll get tired, too. Miles doesn’t know how far he’s running, but you do, so don’t jeopardize your entire run or race by pushing the pace too soon.

What usually happens on long run day…

3. Get distracted. When Miles is out, anything can divert his attention. Sometimes, he’ll see a UPS truck, stop in his tracks, and begin barking his head off. (For some reason, he dislikes all delivery people and services.) Or maybe he’ll encounter a squirrel and slow down to keep a close eye on his “enemy.” (He’s a hunting dog, after all.) Even if he’s going at a nice pace, the sight of a cat or a bird or an object out of place can cause him to forget about his run and focus on whatever he sees at that particular moment.

• Analysis: We’re loaded with distraction in everyday life, and when we go out for a run, that’s no exception. Usually, we have our phone with us, maybe an audio device, probably a GPS watch. These are all great things to have, no doubt. But if we’re checking Facebook, making calls, or stopping to text throughout our run, are we really getting the most out of it? Don’t let distractions affect your performance or make you lose sight of all the great things that running brings.

…Like enjoying a gorgeous fall afternoon at the park

4. Bust it in the heat. Like most dogs, Miles doesn’t do so great in warm weather. He’s loaded with hair, so even a short time in the heat can have him panting. Yet, Miles disregards all this and tries to run just as fast in the summertime. We’re always very careful about Miles running in the heat, and if it’s too warm, we’ll refuse to let him run at all (which often requires a lot of might and a strong leash). Many times, we’ll even cut his walks short so he can get back in the air conditioning. We know how much he enjoys running, but his safety always comes first.

• Analysis: Anyone who’s trained for a fall marathon has probably had to endure summertime long runs, and it’s usually not pleasant. Not only does the heat make us feel tired and worn more quickly, but it also affects our pace—making us feel as though we’re not as fast or conditioned as we thought. We have to realize that running in the heat can be dangerous; adjustments may be necessary. Until the weather gets cooler, we need to listen to our bodies and accept that we probably won’t be going as fast as normal outdoors.

Definitely no running allowed when his tongue is hanging out!

Miles is about to turn 3 in November, and even though he’s a smart, kind, adult dog, obviously we shouldn’t be modeling our running behaviors after him. Hopefully, from the examples above, you see that small things in your running can make a big difference in your effort, performance, and overall enjoyment level. Plus, running can be a whole lot of fun with your favorite four-legged friend!

What advice do you have for running with your dog?

Is there anything your dog does that you shouldn’t do as a runner?

It’s been a week or so since I ran my first trail race…and I still haven’t cleaned my shoes. They’re pretty filthy, but it almost seems like a badge of honor to keep them that way.

As mentioned in a previous post, I just started trail running this summer and decided to sign up for my first race, the Paine to Pain Trail Half Marathon in New Rochelle, NY. Let me first say that this was a fantastic choice for a first race. Not only was it well-organized, but it had the feel and excitement of a traditional road race.

When it came to racing on trails, I wasn’t sure how different it would actually be (other than the terrain, of course). How do you approach a technical course? What do others wear? Do they carry water? I found information and advice online, but you never really know what to expect until you actually get there.

Jen and I woke up early on Sunday and made the drive to Westchester; it was actually pretty easy, given that the route was traffic-free—even on the George Washington Bridge. After parking at New Rochelle High School and making the walk to Thomas Paine Cottage, where packet pickup was located, I had about 40 minutes before my wave would go off. At this time, it started raining—heavy at times—so we sat under a tree with our umbrella as we waited for the race to begin.

Because of its connection to the revolutionary Thomas Paine (the PAINE in “Paine to Pain”), the race has a colonial theme: volunteers in dress, a colonial band of drummers at the start, and even a musket to signal the start of each wave.

I was in the third wave, and just six minutes after the first group crossed the line, my race began. The first mile was primarily on a residential road, a gradual incline that I took very slowly. We then entered our first trail, the Leatherstocking Trail, one of many local trails featured in this race. Almost immediately it got challenging, with a variety of roots, rocks, and inclines to contend with.

I had trained on a variety of trails, in a bunch of different parks, over the summer, so seeing this technical terrain wasn’t unusual…or even frightening. But it was VERY fatiguing. It also didn’t help that I was still feeling the effects of my cold/sickness from the previous week, so I’m sure I was tiring sooner than I would have otherwise. Regardless, it was a tough go within the first few miles, so I was focused primarily on watching my step and maintaining a fairly easy pace.

In the early miles, I probably ran a little faster than I should have. On these single-track trails, with someone usually right in front and behind you, I felt compelled to keep the pace of those other runners so as not to cause congestion. That’s something I’ll have to get used to in other trail races.

I was also focused on NOT GETTING TRAMPLED. Unlike road races, sometimes there’s just not a lot of room to run. And with plenty of other runners in the vicinity, I almost always heard footsteps behind me and was always cognizant of who was nearby. It was kind of nerve-racking. A lot of times, I found myself moving to the right so others could pass. I got passed SO MUCH! (To ensure that the trails didn’t get too crowded, each of the five waves featured both fast and slow runners, so others were bound to catch up to me.)

It was raining most of the time, but because we were surrounded by trees, I really didn’t feel it all that much. But it WAS very humid, which made my throat dryer and my clothes wetter. I’m so glad I chose to wear my hydration belt—I was guzzling water starting in the second mile!

I was definitely tired after the first quarter of the race, but not so much that I didn’t think I wouldn’t finish. I knew I just had to take it easy, walk when necessary, and power on.

Again, the organization here was top-notch. At every point where we came out of the trail and had to cross a road, there were always volunteers guiding and cheering us on, while police held up cars and directed them when to go.

A spectator spot was stationed at around the halfway point, and Jen was there cheering me on when I passed. I told her that the race was hard but I was feeling ok.

She then said the trail up ahead looked terrifying—I guess she won’t be doing a trail race anytime soon!

The second half of the race was actually much easier than the first, primarily because we were running on groomed trails with limited obstructions. (Also, I think runners had spread out a little more; at times, there was a lot of space in front and behind me.) This definitely helped my tired body, even though there were MANY times when I still had to take a break and walk for a bit.

I didn’t have a time goal for this race, but I saw that I was approaching 2:30, so I stepped it up in the last mile or so to try to stay within this mark. Before I knew it, I exited the trail for the last time and started approaching the high school football field.

The finish line was positioned on the track, and after making a half-loop on the smooth track surface, I saw Jen and crossed the line in 2:26—my first trail race complete!

The festivities beyond the finish line were really nice, with tables set up with plenty of food and drink. Texas Roadhouse was there with sliders and iced tea. There were also GIANT sub sandwiches, pasta salad, bagels, and fruit.

Everyone sat on the football field, and Jen and I enjoyed chatting and relaxing in what was now much nicer weather.

This race was great because it didn’t have that intimidation factor that I imagine you’d find at other trail races. I’d definitely recommend it to other first-timers who want a chance to get off the road…and dirty up their shoes a little bit!

Thanks for reading,

Todd

Have you/would you ever run a trail race?

What’s the biggest adjustment you have to make running on trails versus the road?

After four months of long runs and speed work, I finally had my shot at a new PR at the Wineglass Marathon last weekend. This is probably the hardest training I’ve ever put in for a race, and I’m happy to say that it paid off! I met my goal, shaving more than six minutes off my previous best.

However, it didn’t come without A LOT of struggles, and as I’m writing this today, I’m feeling the effects of that effort. Not only can I barely move, but I’m now under the weather. They’re not kidding when they say that running a marathon lowers your immune system.

Jen and I had been wanting to do this race for a while, and earlier this year, we decided to put it on our fall racing calendar. A few weeks after we signed up, though, she decided to register for Ironman 70.3 Atlantic City (recap here), held two weeks before Wineglass. Because she devoted all her time and energy to the triathlon, her goal here was simply to survive, while mine was to run as fast as possible.

We actually started our trip by driving south to Philadelphia to check out some of the historic sites we hadn’t seen before—including the Mint and the National Constitution Center—and also to see her all-time favorite band, Hanson, who was performing that night in the city.

Presidents for the day…

From Philly, we made the four-hour drive to Corning, NY, which was actually pretty easy. Our first stop was the Corning Museum of Glass, where the Wineglass expo was being held. It wasn’t a very large expo, but they had the usual booths like Bondi Band and BeeCause Charms. And they had a decent selection of merchandise for a race of only a few thousand. As usual, we spent way too much on shirts and doodads—what can I say, my wife is a we’re suckers. 😉

After a little light shopping…

We bought tickets to see the rest of the museum, which allowed for two-day entry. On Friday, we made our own glass picture frames. And on Saturday, we customized a sandblasted wineglass specifically for the race.

Also on Saturday, we explored the lovely Finger Lakes region by visiting a few local wineries.

Jen, who was basically still in recovery from her half-Ironman, was a little scared about what would happen in the marathon, so I’m sure getting her drink on at 10:00 in the morning eased her nerves a little bit!

That day, though, is when I started to feel a little off. My throat was scratchy, and I was lethargic from lack of sleep. (I usually don’t sleep so well in hotel rooms.) I was just hoping it would hold off for one more day.

We stayed in a hotel near the start line in Bath, NY; although we were in Corning for most of the trip, we thought staying here would be the more convenient option. All runners, no matter if they are doing the half or full, have to take a bus to their respective start line, and since we were so close to ours, we only had to drive a mile to our bus and ride the bus for ten minutes.

We were at the start line with about 45 minutes before the 8:15 kickoff. It was pretty cold—we bought some throwaway blankets from Walmart the day before—but in all honesty, it was refreshing since we practically spent the last 16 weeks training in brutally HOT temperatures. My throat was still scratchy, but I had managed to get at least some sleep the night before.

Within about a half-mile into the race, Jen urged me to leave her—we had agreed long before that we’d run this race separately. So we said our goodbyes, and I focused on keeping a steady 9:30 pace. The first few miles went through Bath before heading toward some busier roads.

Let me first say that this race is extremely organized. Support crew were watching us from their bikes the entire time, and there were ample volunteers and aid stations. (I noted down where all the water stops and port-a-potties would be on the course, so I knew there were plenty ahead of time.) It’s always nice to know that you don’t have to worry about these things, and you can just focus on your race.

However, the course itself wasn’t the most scenic. (Maybe it would’ve been better had the fall foliage come in already.) For the most part, we were running on highways, alongside the busy I-86. Because of this, the only spectators were in the few small towns we passed through before heading back on the main roads.

Lots of mountains…

Although the race lacked crowd support and memorable sites, it was indeed pretty flat (aside from a few rolling hills)—exactly as I’d heard. The first half went pretty well, although I experienced a side and back stitch within the first two miles. (I was hoping it would just subside, but it didn’t really go away until my first fuel break after mile 5.). And the mild ankle pain I had been experiencing over the last two weeks wasn’t bothering me at all—good thing I iced it in the hotel!

At mile 10, I stopped for another round of Clif Bloks and made the impromptu decision to hit the bathroom. I only mildly had to go, but there was no line, and I knew that the next port-a-potty wouldn’t be until after the halfway point. (If I had to wait at the next stop, I knew I’d be mad.) Because the fuel break and pit stop together cost me some time, I foolishly tried to make up for it over the next mile or so, running at under a 9:00 pace.

This probably wasn’t the best idea. At around mile 14, I started feeling the usual lower back pain that I’ve had in pretty much every marathon to date. To combat this over my training cycle, I focused a lot on strengthening my glutes and hip flexors. I thought all those exercises had helped, but on race day, I guess you never know. (It wasn’t nearly as bad as before, which I suppose is a plus.)

It was also at this point that I started to get a mysterious stabbing pain in my right quadriceps. Now, this was something I had never experienced in a race, so I really didn’t know what to make of it. As you can imagine, it wasn’t comfortable, and it never really went away. Soon both quads were screaming.

To add to my list of woes, around mile 18, I started to feel a bit of light nausea. Jen has experienced this in marathons before, specifically in the 2015 New York City Marathon, and believes the culprit is often too much electrolyte intake. I was planning to fuel for a fourth time around the 20-mile mark, but I didn’t want to take the chance that I couldn’t keep it down.

All in all, the last eight miles weren’t pleasant. I tried to keep myself occupied by giving names to the other runners I had been with the whole time, including Blue High Socks and the Camelback Couple. I had also been keeping a close watch of the 4:10 pacer, hoping I could possibly finish in that range. But after getting ahead of him in the first half, he and his crew left me in their dust for good.

I knew I had to rethink my goals. For this race, I followed the Runner’s World Break 4:15 Marathon Plan, so by this time, I just wanted to finish under that mark. I knew, though, I’d have to maintain at least a 10:00 pace over the next few miles. I wasn’t sure if I could maintain that, especially because I needed to walk a bunch of times and stop and stretch.

I tried to summon the strength to push the pace, while hoping I could keep my breakfast down and my quads from buckling under me. I must’ve REALLY wanted to beat 4:15 because I was not in the best shape.

I managed to cross the finish line with an official time of 4:13. The race finished in Corning on the famous Market Street, with a pretty lively crowd and even Bart Yasso announcing the names of all finishers.

After receiving my cool glass medal, I walked hobbled over to the food tent, where I received a shopping bag to collect some goodies, including chocolate milk, bagels, bananas, apples, and cookies. For hot food, there was even soup and pizza. I was still feeling a bit queasy, but the soup actually helped.

Within an hour or so, Jen was crossing the line.

And as usual with us, we proceeded to take a whole bunch of photographs before taking a bus back to our car in Bath.

Including photos of our chicken soup…which might just be our new favorite post-race treat (for cold-weather races, anyway).

I’m so proud of my wife for tackling this race just two weeks after Ironman 70.3 Atlantic City, where she competed for more than seven-and-a-half hours. I didn’t think this marathon would be easy for her, but I was confident she would finish.

The good news is that she was in pretty good shape afterward, except for her back, which bothered her for much of the race.

We started our long, five-hour car ride back to New Jersey, and at this point, my throat was killing me, and I had no appetite (which is VERY unusual for me). Jen insisted that I needed to eat, preferably something salty since I’m such a salty sweater. We enjoyed a rare yet delicious Chicken McNugget dinner from McDonald’s, and although I was clearly coming down with something, I was able to make it through the rest of the car ride.

Another race in the books for the Lesser-Known Runners…although this one could’ve gone a lot smoother. I’m glad I got my PR, but maybe next time any sicknesses can wait until the off-season. 🙂

How have you dealt with nausea during a race?

How much do you focus on scenery in a race?

Hey, everyone. Todd here. For those who’ve been following us for a while, you know that Jen and I have completed a number of marathons. This weekend, we’re actually running the Wineglass Marathon, where I’ll be going for a new marathon PR (to break 4:20).

Needless to say, I’m no stranger to the world of distance running, and I’m perfectly comfortable with the idea of training to run for hours on end to complete a 26.2-mile race. But when I recently thought about training purely for speed, to really race a 5K — which is “only” 3.1 miles — I actually managed to talk myself out of it.

When I first started running, I did a bunch of 5Ks…mostly local races that I remember as much for the post-race spread as I do for the course. Since I was a newbie, there wasn’t much pressure to nail a specific time or set a PR. (I was running in cross-trainers and cotton t-shirts, after all!)

The picture that makes my wife LAUGH HYSTERICALLY…

I was just there to get out for a little while, go as fast as I could, and enjoy this new racing experience. They were fun…they must’ve been if I was willing to get up so early on a Sunday!

Fast forward a few years, and I really haven’t run so many 5Ks. (We do run a local 5K every year that includes a pizza festival, but I’m sure you can imagine what we look forward to there.)

We’ve really been focusing a lot on longer distances, and it always seems like we have one (or multiple) marathons on the calendar. Over the summer, though, I was thinking about those 5Ks and how I hadn’t pursued a 5K PR in years. Something about that feat, though, makes me very uneasy.

If I’m going to race a 5K, I feel like I need to bust it…and I don’t know if I can. I’m scared of going all out and risking injury for something that truthfully isn’t one of my top goals. I’m very happy with the training I’ve put in for half- and full-marathons, achieving new PRs in both distances over the last year. But a fast 3.1 miles? That will require speed and discipline that I’m not sure I can bring to the table.

Last year’s Steamtown Marathon, where I set my current PR

I’ll admit that Runner’s World piqued my interest in the 5K this year. The June issue had a whole section on crushing your 5K goal for the summer, and there was even a 10-week training plan. Although my first thought on this plan was, “Are you crazy? I’m not doing that!” I suspected I could possibly train for it in a shorter amount of time: three weeks. I didn’t really want to do more than that, and this was how long I had after racing a hard, hilly half-marathon in Mystic, Connecticut, and before the beginning of fall marathon training.

After the Mystic Half Marathon

I found a few speed workouts online and decided (reluctantly) to give it a shot. Only a few days after running that hilly half, I attempted to do some intervals with little success. My legs just weren’t having it. A few days later, I tried again…and gave up halfway through. Yeah, I was disappointed…but you know what, not ALL that much. It was at that point that I just chose to abort the plan. There would be no 5K PR for me and no 5K attempt at all. I just didn’t have the drive to do it, and even with more rest, I wasn’t excited about pushing my body that far.

Ultimately, it was the smart call. I’m pretty much always in training mode—Jen says I’m not happy unless I’m training for something—and this was my chance to relax and give myself a break. I did think at one point that I should simply go for it and see what happens, but worry-free easy runs sounded a whole lot better than speed work.

After taking that nice break, I went head-first into training for Wineglass and now am ready to see what I can do in my next 26.2. But I haven’t forgotten about the 5K. With marathons taking up most of my time, I know I won’t have many chances to get that 5K PR. Perhaps someday soon. Until then, I guess I’ll be doing those runs mainly for the pizza. 🙂

Our very first 5K together

Thanks for reading,

Todd

Have you ever followed a training plan for a 5K?

Have you ever aborted your training plans to give your body a break?