For the upcoming Finger Lakes Fifty, travel concerns were a bit more difficult than expected. The site for the race is a fairly remote state park off the shores of Lake Seneca, so I had to pin down an airport where it made the most sense to fly in. Fortunately I attended college in upstate New York and have a bit of familiarity with the area’s geography.
…but this resurrects a bone of contention I have with that geography. My school was situated in Potsdam, located about as far north as you can possibly get in the state. It is so far north, in fact, that we had to drive about 80 miles south from my campus to get to the 1980 Winter Olympics at Lake Placid! So I feel justified claiming to have lived in “upstate” New York at one point in my life.
Over time, however, I have come to appreciate there are only two locations in the state of New York. You either hail from New York City or upstate New York. For the first ten years after graduation I was consistently sucked in during introductory conversations where the other party would respond to the “where are you from” question with “upstate New York”. Presuming this was near former haunts, I would follow up to determine exactly where, only to be disappointed with responses like Poughkeepsie (just north of the city) or Binghamton (on the Pennsylvania border for cryin’ out loud!).
At least now I am already smiling in anticipation when I pose the follow up query…
Anyway, my familiarity led me to begin the flight search by triangulating on Syracuse, Rochester and Binghamton, all about two hours away by car. Prices were a bit salty so I tried Buffalo, which was cheaper but not sufficient to warrant another few hours of driving time back-and–forth. Elmira, NY entered the picture for a bit, being less costly and closer than anything else, but in a “duh” moment I finally realize Ithaca was right in the back yard. Hmmm, perhaps my New York geography ain’t so great after all.
Added a hotel reservation and car rental to complete personal arrangements, but there’s also the guest list to consider. The big disappointment is that Paul will probably have to cancel due to knee ailments and I’m stuck running this monster solo. The run is essentially three 16.5 mile loops and I’ve been scouting for a “companion runner” (ultra-marathon terminology for someone who accompanies you along the last stretches to ensure your well-being) to run the last loop with no success. Ultra-marathons are serious stuff and many folks hallucinate when they stress their bodies this intensely --- companion runners usher their runner through the final miles when this risk is greatest.
Naturally this compounds diabetic worries. I reiterate my perplexity over how the training regimen only has a 26-mile run as the longest segment to prep for fifty miles??? I will press on, relying that I am probably more disciplined in gauging on-the-fly mental soundness than a non-diabetic, in addition to the belief that this fate befalls folks pushing themselves to the extreme. Once again, the mantra of “slow and steady” should serve me well.
Even if I have to tackle the run by my lonesome on Saturday, Sunday holds promise for a fun reunion. My friend John (a companion of the Oman adventure) and his wife Jody are headed to the Finger Lakes over the long Fourth of July weekend and we’ve tentatively agreed to rendezvous for a wine country road tour…if I’ve survived the fifty miles I will serve as the designated driver. Better yet, my friend Marga from Austin, Texas might be in the neighborhood to visit her expectant daughter and I sent an e-mail to a college friend who lives nearby (whom I haven’t seen since graduation day in May of 1983).
Should I manage to complete my first ultra, ultra good times should be right around the corner!
No comments:
Post a Comment