The Law of Larry??

For all the things in life that are unpredictable, a few things will always remain constant: The sun will rise and fall each day; my family will love me even if I don't have a good race (I hope...); and if Gus Johnson is announcing a sporting event, it is going to be exciting.

Bill Simmons coined the "Law of Gus Johnson" in regards to football games this fall:

If Gus Johnson is calling an NFL game, the odds quintuple that (A) the lead will change hands in the fourth quarter; (B) someone will complete a long pass in a big moment that will make Gus' voice hit an octave only dogs can hear; and (C) the game will go into overtime or at least come damned close. It seems impossible that the mere presence of an announcer would alter the course of the game, but here's my theory: I think God sits in his Man Cave on Sundays and says, "Which game is that Gus Johnson calling? I get a kick out of that guy. I think I'll make his game exciting and see if he completely loses his mind."

But Gus got his start in college basketball (he announced Princeton's 1996 upset of the defending champs UCLA in the first round) and is famous for his excitability while announcing. Great games gravitate towards Gus Johnson.

Now if only the same were true of Larry Rawson.

Actually, great games (or in this case, great races) do present themselves to Rawson, if only he could get excited about them.

The Boston Marathon was Monday. It is one of those races that even non-track fans know about. If my cousin, an avid basketball fan living in Boston, is posting on Facebook about watching the finish line from his room, it's a marquee event.

Mondays for me means a drive to Rutgers with Coach Gags and a workout before returning home around two and heading into work. So, I wasn't able to read a ton about Boston until later on in the day. Not that I didn't get glimpses.

Ryan Hall ran 2:04:57??!? And he took 4th?!?! I was shocked and impressed.

But Desiree Davila had the lead with 400 to go and almost WON The Boston Marathon?!?!?! You have to be kidding me.

I read recap after recap. Almost everyone described themselves as standing up and yelling at their computer screen as they watched the final straightaway. Even Alberto Salazar (who coaches 5th place finisher Kara Goucher) reportedly was yelling at a screen trying to will Davila to victory. I couldn't wait to watch the footage of the finish.

Sadly, I was disappointed.

Not with Davila. Her race was inspiring. Let'sRun.com's Weldon Johnson's analysis of Davila's effort was spot on. Davila raced as tough a race as she could, and even though she didn't win, she almost achieved the impossible. Which in my book is pretty damn impressive.

It's too bad Weldon Johnson wasn't announcing the race. When Davila takes the lead at the 2:47 mark of the video below, the announcers should be going nuts. It's not that Rawson doesn't show much emotion, he does say, "Look at the move being made by Desiree right now, look at this!" But then: silence. Kilel retakes the lead and it's business as usual for the two announcers. Perhaps they were deflated that Davila was not going to win, but that final straightaway was a hell of a ride, and they announce the winner as if it was a high school dual meet.

This is what announcing of a big event should be.

I may not know exactly what we need to do to make track a more popular sport in the U.S., but I do know that some better announcing would help. If Buffalo Wild Wings can get Gus, why can't we?

The Question

It's an age old question. A lot of us ask it from time to time, few actually take the time to figure out the answer. Most of us overestimate, while some err on the under. But we all do eventually ask it: After we've stopped running (I mean really running), how fast are we???

One thing that I'm looking forward to when I'm done running competitively is the random race. I have a good amount of friends who have challenged themselves to run an all out mile or organized an out of the blue street race (from time to time I've gotten in on these as well). It will be fun to go out and race after having not done it for a while. As I'm grasping my knees and sucking for air, I'll realize that it wasn't really that fun.

The "how fast am I right now?" question comes up fairy often in a group of running friends. We're a competitive group (see Dan Nunn's bet).

Krisch had to take 4 months off for a femoral stress fracture after his college career. He just started running two or three weeks ago:
"I could run my high school PR," said Krisch referencing a 9:07 2-mile.
"WHHHATT??!!" everyone responded in hysteria.
"You couldn't break 10," somebody says to get the bartering going for a bet.
"That's ridiculous," Krisch retorts.
The bickering back and forth continues for about 20 minutes too long.
"Fine," says Will, "Saturday, go run 9:30 at Riverbank."
And then we find out how much of a man Krisch is.

Amazingly, this conversation occurs about twice a month. Sadly, the races occur only every once in a while.

I'm happy not to be in the position to ask myself the question yet (although I do ask myself how fast I can become every time I race), but I know that I eventually will. And down the road when I'm a few lbs over the reg and bored with my job and easy runs, I'll lace up the spikes, go up to the track, not let anyone know I'm going, and I'll rip off a mile...hopefully it's under five.

If I can run my HS PR when I'm washed up...I won't be very washed up.

Willamette River

So a quick crack recap of the opening race of the outdoor season: It sucked.

The last time I was in Oregon was in 2009 for the US Outdoor Championships. I didn't run badly there (closed in 54 to run 3:41.8 but missed finals by a tenth of a second), but missing the final was no fun. The day of the final I was instead doing a long run along the trails in Eugene with Bumbi. We had an early wake-up call for the run (8 am...), I was upset about not being in the final, and I had had too many mt. dews the night before (they weren't really Mt. Dews)...the run wasn't going well, so I stuck my head in the Willamette River. It saved the run.

After the race on Saturday I had to get in mileage because travel wasn't going to allow me to get in a Sunday run. I came up on the spot of the Willamette again and really thought about dunking my head in there again. But I didn't. It looked far too cold.

The fact that I even thought about it shows you how upset I was after my race. It wasn't a good one, and it was my own fault for running like I did. As you can see from the video up top, I got out wayyyyy too slow and then never got myself into good enough position to be in the race.

I have the small excuse of being tripped up with 300 to go, but it was my own fault for being in the position to get tripped up. I still closed fairly well, but I gotta get after it in some upcoming 800s and learn how to race it much better. It had been far too long since I'd been in a good one.

Luckily for me, this was the first race of the season and if I race at the level I'm planning to the rest of the way I'll forget this one ever happened. I'll be at Princeton the 22nd racing another 800 before heading to Penn for the open mile there.

New Spikes

Deja Vu?? - finally time to race for me. (pic courtesy of Kyle Merber)

My old spikes are strewn about the country. The most special ones are under my bed here in New York: the red Milers we won Penn in are there; the navy and white Victorys that I broke 4 in for the first time still have red dust from the mondo of the armory. My home back in Michigan has the important high school spikes: the red, cheetah-spotted Ventulas I ran 1:51 in; the black Kennedys that took me to a 4:10. Then there are the rest of the spikes. They could be anywhere. I gave a pair of MaxCats to my buddy Weeth. I definitely left a pair or two in my locker at Gtown. I donated some to a shoe drive -- so my spikes may be strewn across the globe. My latest pair of spikes has been relegated to workouts. They may go under the bed with the other keepsake spikes, but they didn't have a ton of great moments. But there's a new pair to give status to now.

I love a new pair of spikes. They're different from regular running shoes or training flats...they're sacred. Regular shoes you just put on and go out for a run. Spikes? No, you put them on when you first get them and they clink and clack on your wooden floor as you delicately walk around in them and careen your neck around and around to glance at them to make sure they look cool enough, but spikes are for special occasions: Racing.

I just got a new pair of spikes for the Outdoor Season. It starts up Saturday for me. I'll be catching a flight to Eugene Thursday afternoon after a pre-race workout and then Saturday will be go time. Two laps on the track is all I'll need to get the season going. And it should be a blast.

It is the Pepsi Invitational and it's mostly a college race, but Coach Lanana was nice enough to let Gags put me in the 800 field to get a good season opener going. I haven't seen the field, but it will definitely be a good one as U. of Oregon and OTC have a ton of high quality guys. It will be a very good opportunity to race some fast guys. I'm pumped.

I'll lace up the new spikes and race my butt off.