Filed under: Members
NBR Profile No. 4
Rodrigo Toscano talks with ANNA McCUSKER
Anna McCusker joined NBR in March of 2009 after making a resolution (over a pint Guinness while smoking a Marlboro) on St. Patrick’s Day that she would start running again (in college, she was a division 2 track runner). In the past 1.5 years she has run more than 45 races under NBR. Her big race this year is the NYC Marathon. Her favorite races are the 4 miler and half-marathon. She leads the Monday night Advanced Beginners run. She won the Sands Point 5k, the Babylon Dirty Sock Run 10k, and the Pulaski 10k. She’s also been busy collecting NYRR age group awards: Staten Island Half Marathon: 1st, ING NYC Marathon Tune-Up – 2nd, Fitness 4 miler- 1st, Queens Half Marathon – 3rd, Run for Central Park – 3rd, Dash & Splash – 2nd, Fathers Day 5M – 1st, and Japan Day 4-miler – 1st. She lived in Greenpoint for the past year after living in Williamsburg for three years. Anna grew up in what is officially the most culturally diverse county in the entire U.S. – Queens.
RT: Anna, what’s your earliest memory of being attracted to running, I mean, running in and of itself – as a sport?
AM: I grew up playing a lot of sports: soccer, softball, baseball, basketball, volleyball, swimming, even bowling! And not just on one team – I was in a few different leagues for each sport, so to me, athletics were a natural part of life. One of the only sports I didn’t do as a kid was track since my parents were convinced that running and gymnastics would stunt your growth if you did them too early (and at 5’3″ I’m glad they didn’t take any chances 
)
I was always going to be a runner though, my dad and uncle were runners, so from a young age I knew that it was something I’d do also. There wasn’t any one thing that attracted me to running, in fact I only signed up for my High School team during my sophomore yeah cause my dad said I looked bored and needed to try out for a sport. I started Cross Country having no idea what I was doing and I just kept running. I never thought too much about if I liked it or not, it was just something I had to do. There is something pure about it. Running is just you vs. you, it’s about how far you can push yourself. Over the years I’ve tried to stop a few times (because seriously what is the point of an exhausting 26.2 miles, or running in circles in 90 degree heat, or having to take ice baths, or getting up at 5am to stretch, or to try and outsprint someone on the Van Courtland straightaway, or running winter 10k’s in central park with a runny nose and no tissue, or running on torn muscles and tweaked achilles, or trying to beat my old times, or any of the other reasons that don’t make any sense to most people). I quit my track team halfway through my second year of college, but that didn’t last. After I graduated I was alternating signing up for 5k’s then swearing off running again every few months or so. It’s been a long battle but I’ve since resigned myself to the fact that like it or not I am a runner and I will always be a runner. And I’m proud of that. Bam.
RT: Bam. I never would have imagined the phrase “swearing off running” brushing your lips – even for a moment. Great. I appreciate the candor. But here you are – advancing as one of our top racers! And now you are also an NBR run leader. You lead the Monday night Advanced Beginners run, and act as Randy (Locklair’s) backup for the Wednesday night Beginners runs. I’m starting to think about that more and more, how “beginners” and “advanced” runners share very similar challenges. That is, as you’re advancing in your racing capacities, you’re also “bringing up folks through the ranks.” I find that very compelling. What’s the relationship between those two modes of (so to speak) running love?
AM: Well … I wanted to start the Advanced Beginners run because I heard that some of the beginners and the 9 and 10 minute milers felt out of place at the runs. Of course NBR really stresses that we want everyone to run no matter what the pace, but when you’re the last person in the group you’re not always feeing that awesome about coming out so I wanted to have a run where no one felt slow. “Fast” and “slow” are such a relative terms anyways, I mean our fastest runners are fast but if you put them next to the winners of the Marathon they’re way slow. I’ve had that same experience at some of the runs too so I knew how it felt. It’s funny to say I’m slow when pushing out some 7 min miles on the Saturday AM Bridge run but when there’s a fast pack of guys ahead of me and I can’t catch them, I’m feeling defeatedly slow as molasses. It’s something every runner irrationally feels, so I figure I’d make it easier for our moderately paced runners.
Anyways, yeah, no matter what level you’re at there is always more to learn. I love passing on my trial and error stories during the beginners runs, and when I’m going on and on about racing it’s also great to hear from people who don’t race regularly and don’t plan to. It’s like wait…wait…what…? You don’t race…? How is that even possible…? Why in the hell are you running 4 miles right now then…? Hahaha. Once I started to wrap my head around the concept of running for running’s sake everything changed. Since starting up running again all my races felt horrible and training was a painful chore. I would skip practice all the time and feel relieved. But since I started the Monday Night runs and helping out in the Wednesday Night runs I’ve been enjoying running so much more and now feel like I’m missing out on something if I don’t get out there. It also helps when your training partner is hysterical. I did a long run with Cory and Briggs once where I didn’t even realize 5 miles went by cause I was too busy laughing at their back and forth. The same thing with other NBRers like Kevin Grevemburg and Doug Hunter – those guys got the best stories to pass the miles.
RT: There’s something akin to mountain climbing about all this, in terms of advancing as a group. One reels out the rope, another secures the hook, and yet another takes a near-blind, crazy-bold step higher. Nice! Question: who’s been – so to speak – hooking your lines of late?
AM: That’s a good point. A lot of other teams have coaches and formal training plans and cross-training sessions. We are the total opposite. I recently described our training style as a bunch of feral cats running the streets of Brooklyn, and I like it that way. It’s like you come out for a few runs and meet people and if you want to race then you start putting together a Mr. Potato Head Coach of several different NBRers to keep you motivated, fast, uninjured, entertained, and excited about running. Randy and James Chu are my total voices of reason when it comes to running. I’ll be complaining about feeling sluggish and sore and they’ll both tell me I’m an idiot for racing too much and not taking enough time to recover. My Uncle, on the other hand, is the voice of ‘why not?’ in fact he kept telling me I should run both the Marine Corps Marathon and the NYC Marathon even though they were only 7 days apart! As for training, having local runners on the same Marathon plan as me made a huge difference. There would be noooo friggin way I’d want to get up at 5:30am on a Friday to do 2 x 3.5mile intervals @ 6:30 pace after a looong night at the Turkeys Nest if I didn’t have NBR. I think the key is to run with positive people who you aren’t competing with. Sure it’s a good workout if you try and race each other but if you want to get faster you have to learn that doing workouts at slower paces are essential and only a good training partner will tell you you’re running too fast or too slow.
RT: Feral cats! Stripped ones, mottled ones, a few slow-blinking silky ones – we’ve got them all, ready and willing to purr or claw their way to the next thing. I remember James once said to me “800’s – a bit slower – but more volume” And I’ve been thinking about that ever since, “volume, volume”. And Owen (Kendall) once said to me (in a comradely manner) at the end of a half marathon, “you looked a little too comfortable at the end” Ouch! Meow! Appreciated.
Um … also … Anna … I’ve been wondering … just how much junk food can you cram into that tubular body of yours? It’s legendary! Given that this club has its share of ascetic mini-gurus peaking in from every corner of the Northside – do tell.
AM: Tubular you say? I think I’d prefer to be called tubarlar, as in potato-like. Mmmm potatoes. But yeah this team is filled with healthy eaters and I have no idea how they do it. My Grandma always said every meal deserves a desert and I live by it. I also think there is nothing in the world that an ice cream cone can’t solve…except maybe childhood obesity.
RT: So … recently on our googlegroups listserv, you posted something about the last marathon you ran – just four days ago – the ING NYC 2010 Marathon. You rocked that race. But you said that you were done with Marathons (at least for a while), causing a chain of “no, Anna!” -type responses from our members (btw, I heard you say that last year actually too). What’s the story?
AM: Yeah you know how some people have to tell everyone they are running a Marathon otherwise they might chicken out and cancel? I need to tell everyone I’m not doing it so I won’t get Marathon amnesia and sign up again! That race was pretty hard for me; I had gotten injured 6 weeks before and hardly trained during that time. Standing on the Verrazano Bridge starting line I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to finish the race, but that I was going to go ALL OUT anyways. I was doing fairly well until mile 23 when I’m pretty sure I was bit by a zombie since I hit the wall, slowed considerably, lost the ability to form coherent sentences, and was slightly dragging one leg.
When I finished I actually tapped on my watch to see if it was broken cause I was shocked at my time (yay!) Then all the pain of running 26.2 miles without proper training caught up with me and it was horribly horrible. Really horrible. The medics kept asking me what was wrong (couldn’t they tell I was obviously a zombie?) and I would tell them over and over that “I’m just experiencing some pain in the leg area” because I thought a joke would lighten the situation. I don’t think they got my humor but they let me walk on anyways down the million blocks it took to get to the very last baggage truck.
But yeah, I don’t think I train enough for Marathons and therefore they just wreck me. So no more for me…unless of course there is a Jameson Whiskey Marathon. I’d definitely have to do that one.
RT: Anna! You’ve been hosting & leading & winning that run every week for two years! But wait, backing up a bit. In training for the ING marathon … you were waking up at 5:30 a.m. to do 2 x 3.5 mile intervals @ 6:30 pace? That’s roughly two back-to-back 5k’s – as intervals. Holy zombie vomit! That’s a tough-ass (targeted) workout. Which gets me to thinking…in the very early days of the NBR, me and you would often be running side by side, completing all workouts as outlined by the run leaders. I remember the workouts being vigorous, but nothing remotely approaching (as they say) “leaving it on the track.” A large chunk of the team seemed not too much faster (or slower) than the others. But at some point, your racing grit started to deepen, it seemed to take on a life of its own. Beth (Androski) after a race, on the subway, in a very calm voice, once said to me, “running …it’s… really…so…mental”, and I thought, c’est moi! She meant though, “mind” leading “body.” And since “mind” in Highest Ape ™often equates to language, do you have any mantras that you say to yourself (out loud or silently) before a race, or during a race?
AM: I would definitely agree with Beth’s ‘running is mental’ statement. There are so many tricks runners use for pushing further than what you think you can. Sometimes when I’m feeling really ragged in a race I’ll do the “rabid dog test” in which I say to myself ‘could I run faster if a rabid dog was chasing me?’ and if the answer is yes then I tell myself that obviously I’m not that tired. I also once saw a saying on the back of some guys shirt that said “Running won’t kill you, you’ll pass out first” which stuck with me so when I’m getting really out of breath (got a touch of asthma) and want to stop I tell myself “What’s the worst that will happen? I’ll pass out and the medics will get me, so what?” which seems weird to say now, but in a race it makes perfect sense…
I also find cheering a welcome distraction. In the last club-points 4 miler we had separate men’s and women’s starts allowing us to cheer each other on. I hit a quiet patch around mile two and started to slow until I heard Pavel (Marosin) yell “Go Anna, don’t let that pack get away from you!” I was so happy to see someone I knew that I smiled and waved to which he yelled back “stop smiling and start racing!” which is pretty much the best cheer ever and had me laughing for an entire mile (probably scaring the CPTC girls around me who were being all serious about their running). In the same race I saw JP appear randomly around mile three (I don’t know how he does it, one second no ones there and the next he just appears!) then The Dashing Whippets men’s team did the wave when I ran by (I love the Whippets!) and the NBR men’s team was at the final turn to yell at me to “kick now!!!” My form even got better at the end of that race cause I didn’t want to pass everyone I knew looking like a swamp monster.
It was also a very hot summer which helped me a lot. If I had the choice between running in 85 degrees or 35 I will choose 85 every time. When it’s hot it’s hard to think; the gun goes off and your head says “go” and you GO. When it’s cold your muscles are cold and your lungs burn and there is no GO, it’s more like the frustrating feeling of waiting for a bus that’s behind schedule. I think I should petition NYRR for gas heaters to line Central Park during the long dark winter months. That would be awesome.
RT: This “Running won’t kill you, you’ll pass out first”, me too, it took me a while to come to grips with that (well, it still might be there, festering). Why? Because it runs smack into the whole question of mortality, which everyone has to face in their own way. That said, I truly believe that we’re all the descendants of great runners – from all continents (flaring out from Africa). The ancient ones that’d “blow a gasket” when going anaerobic, well, they didn’t make it! Their DNA lines didn’t survive evolutionary sorting. So one annoying as f#%$ outcome of all this is – how much can each of us bear to train – and how much agony can each of us bear during a race. Oh, and your genes seem very well suited for global warming. JP and I will end up as summertime evolutionary funk-outs in a museum diorama.
So, Anna, I’ve often heard you identify as a “middle distance runner.” And the numbers I think bear that out – plenty. And more importantly is that you take pride in that identity. Nothing grates a middle distance runner more than when people say “oh, it’s just a 10k” “I do those every other day.” You know what I mean? Irritating! What with the Joe Kleinerman 10K just around the corner, our middle distance hounds are having to take serious stock as to what’s a sustainably hard pace for each of them, plus overall run strategy. Michael Essig, for example, comes out like a holiday cruise ship out of Tampa Bay, and finishes like a jet ski on Lake Havasu. Matt Decker seems to split up his races into at least two halves, the Matt 1 Rocket gets released into space at mile 4, the Matt 2 takes it to the finish. Me, I hit the first two miles pretty hard, crap out for three and a half, and then surge with 800 to go, and kick at 200. Uh, too late. Our friend Miriam (Beyer), from club Athena, knows this very well, and is always polite enough to give me a friendly heidy-ho as she glides past me like a gazelle at mile 5. I try and catch her, missing her by less than 5 seconds – at least three times now! Beautiful.
Two questions – first: what’s your overall 10k strategy? And two: as regards the yearly (women’s only) “Mini 10k”, although the race itself is great, what, pray tell, is so “mini” about it? You all smush your race times running it, and the event draws world-class talent. Am I just having a bad pre 10k morning here, or does this kvetch resonate with you in any way?
AM: Well, I don’t really have a 10k strategy. I start off most races hoping I’ll run fast and then will check my mile splits to see what kind of a day it will be. Usually by mile 2 or 3 I can estimate how I’m doing, and sometimes even pleasantly surprise myself. I try and keep my race expectations low key otherwise I’d probably get all bogged down under pressure and suck.
Ok, the history behind the Mini 10k is very interesting. NYRR wanted to promote women’s running by holding a Women’s Marathon, but (and this problem still exists today), most women don’t think they can run one. I mean it was just a few decades ago when women were told not to run because their uteruses would fall out. It wasn’t until 1960 that women were allowed to race more than 200 meters in the Olympics, and women weren’t even officially permitted in the Boston Marathon until 8 years before I was born! It’s hard for us to believe these things now because organizations like NYRR have done so much to make us feel equal, but it’s only been recently that we’ve been accepted. So yeah, instead of trying to put on a Women’s only Marathon with 20 runners, NYRR compromised and put on a 10k calling it a “Mini Marathon” to get all those joggers in the 1980’s to come out and believe they can race. Thanks to NYRR, this year I got to run with Olympians and Professionals in the Mini 10k and even beat the current Marathon World Record holder Paula Radcliff!!! … yes I’m crediting myself with beating her in a 10k even though she was 6 months pregnant and just running it for fun = ] hahaha. When you think about it, running is one of the only professional sports where the Men’s and Women’s leagues and prize purses are equal. If I wanted to play baseball I’d be in some no name league, same thing with hockey, or even soccer. The WNBA is something but not even close to what the NBA gets. But in running we’re on the same roads and get the same prizes and even the same “run forest run” taunts. And that’s all I could ask for.
RT: I follow you. Maybe it is a good idea to preserve the name, so that we know how far the sport has come in so short a time. To wit, Joe Kleinerman (this from coolrunning.com): “…was a strong proponent of women’s long distance running and in 1967, he joined Vince Chiapetta and Nina Kuscsik, in leading a national movement to allow women to run races longer than a mile.” I read elsewhere that he was also a pioneer in age-graded race categories. I dare say our very own club is also helping to lead the way in terms of gender balance and democratic-structural innovation. Pre-club existence, post-club existence … many of our member’s lives seem to break like that. Anna! Good stuff can really happen, eh? Thanks for your gems from the swamp!
AM: Thank you for talking with me. You really got me thinking. And yeah, NBR is awesome and completely unlike any other club out there. I don’t think I would have stuck with this running spurt again this long had NBR not been this open and unorganized. It is funny though, pre-club existence none of my friends were runners and I would go out at night and drink and smoke and that was normal. Post-club existence I run at night and have Jameson shots in the daylight with a bunch of other runners and now this is normal. Some rabbit hole, huh? Bam. Carrot.
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