Filed under: Members
NBR Profile No. 7
Rodrigo Toscano talks with RANDY LOCKLAIR
Randy Locklair joined NBR in February of 2009. On his way home from a run on a particularly warm February day (60 degrees!), he stumbled on an NBR sign on his block. He e-mailed Aja Marsh that very day offering to help out. When they met for the first time, he suggested starting a beginner’s run, which he’s been leading to this day. He also organized the very first NBR social at the Gibson. He’s completed three New York ING Marathons, and has won his age group in a few out of town races back in the day (“but never in this crazy town!”).
As a kid, Randy played in the “deck hockey” league, meaning he’d play on foot – running his tail off. (He still plays to this day, for almost all of NYC’s Black Top Street Hockey League’s 10-year existence!) After busting up his ankles a bunch of times (and “growing up”), he decided to take up running – to avoid injury 
He’s been living in “North Brooklyn” for about five years. He’s originally from New Rochelle, and lives right on the Greenpoint / Williamsburg border near Graham Ave. In his spare time, Randy snowboards and flies airplanes.
RT: Randy, Randy, Randy … you are so much on my mind these days. As of a week ago, I’ve joined our injured reserve squad, thanks to a nasty tibia stress fracture. Looks like I’m out for at least three months! The level of anger and frustration that I’m experiencing right now is hard to express. “Surely, I have a life outside of running” I say to myself, but then there’s a little voice in my head that says, “yeah right, you crumpled up piece of junk, you can’t even handle your crutches – see you in the landfill of humanity!” Man … I should just chill, right? But, rrff … I was really advancing, I was really hitting some new levels of training and racing. But, stepping off from the ledge here for moment, and taking a deep breath, I do have to ask you—dude, how do you deal? How have you dealt with this in the past? Matter of fact, you’re in the reserve squad yourself right now. Talk to me!
RL: I’d say my ability to cope with these injuries has a lot to do with the type of runner I am. I’m definitely what you would call a recreational runner. I love racing, and I love getting faster and faster at it, but for the most part I just take it easy. You may notice that I’m usually the voice of the “average runner” on the mailing list—when someone asks for training advice or whether they should run through sickness or injury or whatever—I’m usually the one suggesting the way less aggressive approach. We are not all 70 mile per week, 10 mph runners, and I definitely represent the opposite side of the spectrum.
A good part of why I am so laid back about running (aside from me being laid back about most things) is that sustaining a strenuous running schedule is very, very hard for me. Aside from the various ligament and tendon injuries I have had during my lifetime, I also have serious trouble keeping weight off—my body was not meant for running and it starts to break down on me if I push it. It’s very hard for me and sometimes not very enjoyable at all. I do it because despite all of that I still have a special unexplainable love for it.
What I am getting at is that, when forced to take a break like I am right now, it’s actually really good for me. In some ways it’s really relieving, both physically and mentally, to not run for a month. It’s nice to have a break. But… then I start to miss it. I miss it a lot right now. And that is fantastic, because it’s making me remember how much I love it. When I am finally back on my feet, I’ll be so much more motivated. Coogan’s 5k was supposed to be my first race of the year, and I’m bummed that I’m missing it—but I’m counting down the days to running the BAA 5k in April. And now, it’s back to the elliptical trainer and the bike… argghh (at least it’s cold outside. I’d be on the ledge with you if it were June.)
RT: You seriously just made me feel so much better. Dziekuje, gracias.
Lucretius, the ancient Roman philosopher, remarked that the most elemental form of pleasure is the gradual cessation of pain. I think that applies to “mental” pain as well. It needs be drained! And one of the most gratifying qualities of this club is always having people around who have a real knack at getting us to chill the frick out.
A longtime NBR buddy of ours, Lindsay (Wengler), once commented on our mailing list “… through Randy, the Beginner’s Run … I learned a lot about running and what I needed to fix/change in my running routine. I haven’t had an injury in over a year and have increased my mileage. The first year of the beginner’s runs, Randy created a plan to have everyone run a race before the end of summer – never thought I’d be running the NYC marathon the next year!” That’s quite a compliment, and shared accomplishment. Where does that passion of yours come from, this desire to lift up people’s abilities, step by step?
RL: Because we all need (and deserve) to be uplifted! It all comes from my history as a runner. As you mentioned, I am not a lifetime runner. I never ran track. The only race I was ever in was a one-mile race in elementary school that I could not finish because I had an asthma attack. When I decided I needed to get back into shape, I was 23, about 50 lbs overweight, and frightened of the treadmill. I hopped on for the first time and huffed and wheezed and struggled through a quarter mile and I was done. But it was awesome.
I didn’t even think I’d make it through a tenth of a mile. I felt SO good afterwards. And I was hooked. I worked my way to running 3-4 miles at a 10:00 pace (it took a while). For whatever insane reason, I signed up for a NYRR 5 mile race—the old St. Patrick’s Day one—having never run 5 straight miles in my life. The Thursday before the race, I ran 5 miles for the first time.
(A lot of my beginner runners will recognize this story from here on out because I tell it all of the time.) I showed up on race morning and was amazed. I thought, “I don’t look like the slowest or least fit person here.” Then we started running, and I was passing some of these people who I thought looked super fit. And some people who had 40 lbs on me were passing me! It really taught me a lesson about how much of running is training and mental and not all just about how in-shape you look. It made me realize that if I put in the time, even though I don’t have the typical “runner’s body”, that I could improve a lot. And while not at all competitive (at least in NYC!) I’ve gotten my 5k time down below 21:00 and run three marathons.
To return your question, the reason I do it is because I know how difficult it is to get started when running was not always part of your life. And, I know how rewarding it is when you discover and embrace it. I want as many people as possible to feel that, and the NBR Beginners’ Run allows me a stage in which to play that out.
RT: In my humbled state right now (stress fractures have this of talking smack to you a couple thousand times a day – they say, FU!) and still observing every single runner that glides by in my neighborhood, I’m gaining a new-found appreciation for people doing 9:00-10:00 paces in truly gorgeous form. Many of them look utterly graceful, and strong.
Strong. I’m thinking about that now, in a deep way. Fernando (Feria) once said to me about “going long” … “well, can you stand still – in good form – for 4 hours? Start there.” In my personal shorthand for running wisdom, I call that one, “The Fernando.” “The Kevin” (Grevemberg) goes something like this, “if something is poking at you with pain, back off – immediately.” I was in fact pulling “Kevins” all the way through late February – with great results! One of my funniest “The’s” is “The Anna” (McCusker). That one, kind of goes like this, “if you blow up near the end of a race, and if you have to go off-road to recompose yourself for a bit, don’t walk backwards!” I’m busting up right now … A.M. once caught me in reverse direction in a 5k in Prospect Park. Man … alright.
So, the word “love” appears no less than four times in your last response. And at the risk here of de-randyfying you—if only for a moment, what do you (and I understand these feelings are transitory) loathe about the current NYC running (or fitness) culture?
RL: Hey, I hear you about being “humbled.” I’m not even back up to running 800 meters yet. And when I do try and run it, my ankle constantly reminds me of the fact. Just awful.
Ha! “De-randyfying” I love it. This is tough! And “loathe” for me, is still a rather strong word, but I think I can speak to this a bit. As positive as I usually am, I also like to call it like I see it. Aside from easy to identify things, like “The race fees are too damn high!” I think people get a little too opinionated about “the best way” to do things in fitness —and especially in running. I think you can see a lot of this on our mailing list. As generally open minded as most of us North Brooklyn Runners are, there have definitely been some heated arguments regarding the best way to train, how hard to train, and how loud your music should be while you do it. Honestly, I try and stay out of these arguments, but every once in a while they’ll sway a little too far to one side and I have to put my two cents in.
Running is CRAZY individual. Take Runner A, who has run for 30 years and has tons of experience. They’ve had stress fractures and strains and muscle tears. They’ve placed in one race and DNF-ed (“did not finish”) in another. It’s possible that their immense knowledge of running doesn’t apply to Runner B. We all have to remember that. It’s also hard for the highly competitive, speedy, 100-mile-a-week runner to frame their knowledge for someone who is a little overweight, has some speed now and then, but only logs 25 hours a week. I think its great for everyone to discuss and share their knowledge but we all have to remember that what works for one does not work for another. And hey, I do it too—I’m a big proponent of making sure you get in your rest days—I preach it all the time, but there are some people that are just better logging 7 day weeks and they shouldn’t listen to me!
More than anything else, we all need to just be happy that we’re all runners. If someone wants to put on headphones (low volume of course) and run barefoot on the grass on the outside of the track, and someone else wants to run a 16×400 on spikes with 60 second recovery runs and running anything less seems like walking to them—awesome! Go do it! Then get together at the bar and be proud of yourselves and get shitty together. Discuss your methods with an open mind, and maybe you’ll even learn something.
RT: It’s been about six weeks since we last engaged this profile (the way these things go actually, NBR folks leading mad-cap busy lives). And a lot has transpired since then; for one, you twisted your other ankle [insert climaxing-skull emoticon here], and on my end, my race-pace efforts on the stationary bike are quickly approaching my new rye whiskey aenerobisms.
Hey so, you know that Beatles song, “Across The Universe” where the refrain goes “nothing’s … gonna change … my worrrld”
“nothing’s … gonna … change … my worrrld”
“… nothing’s … ”
“ … myyy … ”
“ … myyy … ”
“wor – ”
“worrrr – ”
“rr – ”
“ rrrrrrr – ”
“ rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr -”
Randy … what part of your body are you most stoked about these days? I mean, in a plutonium-explosive way.
Light me up …
RL: My feet! Duh!
RT: Thanks!
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