Surreal. That’s the only way to describe the finish of the Blueberry Stomp 15K in Plymouth, Indiana. Run on Labor Day morning, the race (and its companion 5K) is part of the town’s annual Blueberry Festival. It’s the quintessential community run, with a course running through the heart of downtown before heading out to country roads punctuated with plenty of rolling hills. But it’s when you circle back to the finish that things get interesting. You see, during the time you’re slogging through the Midwestern prairie, the Blueberry Festival Parade is starting back in town. So when you run back down the main drag, the parade is running the opposite way on the same street. It’s safe – they still have a runner’s lane marked off with cones – but it’s also supremely odd. The sidewalks have people stacked two to three deep, you’re running right in front of them, but they’re not really watching you. Meanwhile, you’re getting an intimate view of the mayor, the local marching band, and more than a few Shriners. At any minute, you’re expecting to see Rod Serling handing you a Gatorade at the next water stop. I don’t know that I’d run it again. But I’m very glad I did it once.

This was our first marathon here at Lactic and – considering the heat and an unexpected injury during our last long run – it probably couldn’t have gone any better. A questionable shin and record temperatures forced a very conservative start with an easy pace and plenty of hydration. Never hit the wall (or if that was the wall, it was relatively soft), just gradually slowed over the last 10 miles and cruised in at 4:54:24. Performance aside, we thought the race was very well-organized with plenty of support and, of course, an amazing group of spectators estimated at 1.2 million. Still sore, but would do another in a heartbeat as we figure we faced about as adverse conditions as could be expected and came out okay on the other side.

In the early miles of a recent half-marathon, I was sure something was wrong with my heart monitor. That or I was picking up the signal of a runner near me. How else to explain 180 BPM, a level I rarely reach even in the latter stages of speed workouts? Sure, the course had a few hills in its first half, but none steep enough to explain these readings. And the temperature was only in the upper-60s. I felt fine and wasn’t struggling at all in spite of the puzzling numbers. Then, halfway through the race, the course exited a park setting and took to the streets. And instantly, my heart rate came down. In hindsight, there could be only one cause: humidity. A pre-race rainstorm combined with the heavily wooded park created very high humidity. And if you’ve been reading any previews of the upcoming Olympic marathons, you know competitors will be facing even worse conditions. And we’re not talking about something remedied with a little extra hydration. Performance will suffer, period. Elite runners who’ve faced similar conditions as Beijing seem to have a universal refrain: I simply couldn’t run as fast as usual. Some think this may even the field. Some think it will only increase the East African advantage. But one thing is sure for Ryan Hall and Deena Kastor and everyone else toeing the start line. Running at this level is about managing pain. And this one promises a whole new level of hurt.

How is it possible to enter this 13.1 mile race online just a few days before the event? There are plenty of similar half-marathons – with vastly inferior ambiance and scenery – that fill up instantly. Maybe it’s another Chicago half-marathon coming up next month. Or the Chicago marathon the month after that. Whatever the reason, it’s hard to fathom why anyone would miss this. Starting in Grant Park and running south along Lakeshore Boulevard before circling back along the lakefront path, the 2008 edition saw cool (for August) temps and very little humidity. The course can get slightly cramped at times, but organizers did their best to ease the congestion by breaking the start into staggered “waves”. And, if nothing else, this race is worth it for the stunning view of the Chicago skyline just after the turnaround.

It must be part of the race director’s code: For shelling out their hard-earned cash to run your event, participants must be rewarded with a t-shirt from the pit of Hell. How else to explain the drawers full of 100% cotton monstrosities we all seem to possess? How else to explain why someone deemed incapable of manning a water stop suddenly acquires a degree in graphic design? Here at Lactic, the biggest race of the year is the Indianapolis 500 Festival Mini-Marathon in early May. And it’s become tradition to see how unspeakably hideous the commemorative t-shirt will be. Plus, it’s always long sleeve, the perfect option for the hot summer ahead. And just how long will it be before the glut of sponsor logos grows so large they’ll have to start silkscreening the armpits? But there is one positive development. A lot more races are now providing technical t-shirts as their giveaway. Proving that we runners will put aside our fine art sensibilities and wear paint-by-number masterpieces or one of John Wayne Gacy’s clowns as long as you offer the solemn promise not to chafe our nipples.

Lactic hit the lottery a few months back and won entry to the NYC Half Marathon on Sunday, July 27. The course starts with a six-mile loop through Central Park before routing runners out of the south end of the park onto 7th Avenue for a jog right through the heart of Times Square, then west on 42nd Street before turning south on the highway adjacent to the Hudson all the way to the finish at Battery Park on the south tip of Manhattan (near a convenient subway station to zip you back uptown). A pre-race rain shower created almost sauna-like conditions in Central Park, but the streets brought a slight breeze, making for a much more comfortable second half. Needless to say, the entire course has its share of spectacular scenery, but it’s hard to top the surreal feeling of running through a shut-down Times Square. The race is very well organized, with the start corrals (and the start itself) easily the most comfortable we’ve ever experienced. Except for a cancelled Sunday night flight and a resulting 14-hour drive home on Monday, it was the perfect trip.

You and your body is a union based on trust. You promise to put in junk miles, stretch sporadically, and do too much speed work. Your body – according to you – promises to stay fresh, limber and responsive. And then the injury comes, an aching hip Jezebel ruining your long-term cardiovascular honeymoon. And your counselor (who looks suspiciously like a sports med doc) bucks every tenet of impartial therapy and points a finger straight at you. Bastard. Even though you’re convinced he’s wrong, you begrudgingly follow his plan. And, slowly, the spark returns. You start to remember what first attracted you to your legs in the first place. It’s good. And then a sexy 36 x 400m workout turns your head again. And you fall. But that’s over before you know it, leaving only the jilter and the jilted forced to live together once more in a crumbling house going up in flames. And inflammation.

We could learn a thing or two from the fuel-sippers in the slow lane. While we suspect they never speed up, they’re running the race –– at least the first half –– in the fashion we all should try. Because, with apologies to Steve Prefontaine, the negative split is best. Starting out at a prudent pace and flooring it later in the race will result in better times. It’s just damned hard to do when everyone around you, be they Ferrari or Hyundai, is squealing off the line like quarter-milers (drag racers or runners, take your pick). But your body’s fuel is expensive. And lactic acid? Steeper still. So set the cruise control, enjoy the ride, and listen for the sputtering of the empty tanks in front of you. Then, finally, you can show off that extra gear.

We recently took the plunge and purchased the new Garmin Forerunner 405. While we’ve never spent much time in this space plugging products, this is one that – although we’ve had it only a short time – we can wholeheartedly endorse. Granted, this is our first GPS-enabled gadget, so we were somewhat destined to be wowed. But everything about it (save the price, perhaps) seems right. Easy to program, ingeniously designed, and delivering everything promised when on the road, the 405 feels almost perfect. We wish it were Mac compatible (supposedly that’s coming in autumn), but we have no other complaints. There’s functional. There’s cool. And this thing sits right in the middle of that intersection. 

Don’t. I know your big race is only a few days away and you want to be your best. So new shoes should do the trick, right? Don’t. A better kick might get you to a PR, so maybe you should squeeze in one last interval session? Don’t. A new pillow, a new pre-race meal, possibly use this race to try those gel packs for the very first time? Don’t and don’t and oh-my-goodness don’t. Remember, consistency got you this far. It’s been faithful and true. It’s consistency, that’s what it does. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to excel. But the finish line is reached by staying the course. Even in training. So push down all those doubts. Stick to the plan. And don’t.