The easiest 13 miles I've ever run

I dreaded today. I'm in the 4th week of Hal Higdon's Intermediate II 18-week program that I've extended to 20 weeks, and this week's long run was 13 miles. I prepared for it, though, gear-wise and psychologically the best I could.

This week I started buying running clothing. I always thought it was silly to buy a $30 nylon-lycra-polyester shirt when I have about 5 dozen T-shirts in my closet. But then I bought a sleeveless running shirt to serve as a liner layer for my hike up Mt. Kilimanjaro next month, and I chanced to wear it running on a 6-mile run.

It was amazing. I was running in North Carolina, where it swelters in the summer from the humidity that adds 10 degrees to the actual temperature, and instead of a shirt that was clinging to my body, the REI shirt felt dry on my skin even though it actually was wet when I used the hem to wipe my face. I was sold. I probably won't give up running in cotton T-shirts, but I definitely will throw on the synthetic blend shirt for the long runs.

I added a couple of shorts, a running hat, and a Fuel Belt to the repertoire, and I realized that the rest was up to me. Last night I laid out the entire outfit - which included synthetic blend underwear - and I pre-selected and packed 2 gels into the Fuel Belt pocket. The final elements were my Oakleys and my Garmin Frontrunner watch.

As I approached the entrance to the 6-mile loop from Columbus circle, I started to feel nervous. I let the expectations go, started the clock, and went on my way. I was already disappointed that I'd stalled so long this morning. I'd wanted to get up and hit the loop at 7:30AM to avoid the 90-degree day it was supposed to be, but I didn't make it out there until after 9AM.

The disappointment and negative talk evaporated in the heat when I got to the 72nd Street traverse and saw a line of runners with bibs running South on the inside lane. It was hard to put my finger on what kind of race it was. The participants were much more athletic than the mixed bag one usually sees on the weekend New York Road Runner (NYRR) races, and their running outfits didn't look quite like running outfits. As I ran north, I realized that it was the running leg of the Nautica New York City 2006 triathlon.

These people were ridiculously in shape. As I watched each man and woman struggle forward, I realized I had nothing to complain about. I was fresh, probably not yet even to the 3rd mile of my run, and these people had swum and cycled what I couldn't do in the hours I was still sleeping this morning. On that last turn towards their finish at the traverse, there were people along the sides of the route cheering racers on, and hearing and seeing them cheer choked me up. I know that feeling - you're in pain and you're digging deep and you're alone. It's only you. It can only be you. No one else will move your feet for you. And then suddenly you hear a voice uttering your name or your number or the words on your shirt, and the sound pulls you along. You're so grateful someone is there with you at the same time you can barely say thank you or nod in gratitude.

This moment of connection is powerful to me.

As I rounded the corner into the descent on the east side of the Great Hill, I realized how much I love the sport of running. A woman was struggling up the incline, but deliberately and strongly, and a man slowly passed her. The man had a prosthetic left leg. As he passed by her left shoulder, she called out, "Great job!" And he called out over his right shoulder, "Hey, you too!" I could barely breathe I was so choked up by this exchange. She was working hard, running uphill, but she still took the time and breath to yell out encouraging words, and so did he.

I realized that, paradoxically, running is the most generous sport out there. It's an individual sport, so you'd think that it would be uber-competitive, but it's really not. It's you discovering just how much your body can do, pushing and pushing back the limits. There may be rivalries, and runners may go head-to-head in a race, but the other runner is really only a reference point to help you figure out your limits. The runners who are missing limbs and/or have prosthetics are doing the same thing - instead of only figuring out their limits with what they have, they're trying to figure out what they can accomplish when something is taken away. Either way, we're all digging deep, reaching for the next peak.

I would get inspired over and over again. I would get choked up every time I saw a group of fans cheering on the runners, every time I saw the pain on a racer's face as he or she ploughed ahead, every time I heard the prosthetic leg pound the pavement.

Central Park also is a unique venue for running and races because I guarantee it's the only place you can be running a race and the people who are cheering you along the way are themselves either running, cycling or rollerblading.

The triathlon, the people cheering, the individual racers - all these things helped make this run the most painless distance above 10 miles I've ever run. I also read Jeff Galloway's advice on www.coolrunning.com website that for these long runs you should run at a pace 2 or 3 minutes per mile more slowly than your normal pace and that you should incorporate 1- or 2-minute walk breaks every 8 to 9 minutes. I was very disciplined about this, and it worked. It forced me to slow down as I first ran the full 6-mile loop, then the 5-mile loop (bounded on the north by the 102nd street traverse), then the lower 1.7-mile loop (bounded on the north by the 72nd street traverse), and as a result I didn't experience the cramping or fluid build-up I remember feeling the first time I ran the 6-mile loop twice.

Another piece of Galloway advice I followed is that I made sure to take a long cool-down walk after the run. As usual, I could only walk very slowly right after I finished the run. To help me continue walking, I took in the sights between the Park and my apartment, and I ran errands. I walked the block around my building, and because the Late Show is there, I popped in to put my name on the lottery for a taping. Then I picked up some spaghetti bolognese to go at Leone's on Broadway between 52nd and 53rd and then did some grocery shopping at Gristede's. By the time I finally settled in my apartment, I was back to walking at my normal city pace, and I didn't cramp up. I still iced and elevated, however, and overall I've taken it easy.

I can't believe I ran 13 miles. It took me 2 h 35 m, and that's perfect. I look at it at running the whole time but at a very disciplined, deliberately easy pace. It felt amazing. And it will definitely make future runs less daunting.