Running Training Article 
								Aching To
								  Run 
								By Christopher Hunt -
								  THE JOURNAL NEWS 
								Everyone's been there. You wake up, brave the cold, and head to work when the
								sun is only starting to show its intention to rise. You start your car, and
								while you're driving and still thinking about the warmth of your bed, you see
								one. 
								A jogger along the side of the road, pushing through
								  a morning run. The question automatically pops into your head: Why?  
								"It's weird," said Lynne Layne, a New Rochelle
								  junior and the top sprinter in the state. "But I guess those people are really
								  dedicated."  
								John Samsel is one of them. Samsel runs through
								  Mamaroneck every morning before work. He has raced in half-marathons, marathons
								  and track races. He even won his age group at the New York Road Runners
								  10-miler in Central Park and the NYC2012 5K Run for an Olympic Bid in Central
								  Park last Tuesday.  
								But Samsel, 61, who runs his own telecommunications
								  company in Mamaroneck and started running competitively only eight years ago,
								  is just one man in the worldwide fraternity of people addicted to one of the
								  most painful activities in sports  running.  
								"Runners do become addicted to running," said
								  Samsel, who runs about 50 miles a week in the soothing sun or unforgiving snow.
								  "It's not that we enjoy running. Running is really not fun. It hurts. But once
								  it's done, you enjoy having run."  
								Pain is part of the deal. True runners are full of
								  gruesome tales of losing their breakfast after a tough race or training
								  session. They talk about the dizziness and the pounding headaches that result
								  from oxygen debt. They'll tell you about shaky legs, sudden cramps, endless
								  drinks of water, ice baths, ice packs, heat packs and trips to the chiropractor
								   and then they'll lace up and run some more.  
								It all sounds so masochistic.  
								But there's a personal gratification inherent in a
								  hard run or strong race that has nothing to do with winning and losing.  
								"Each person who participates can be a winner," said
								  Craig Masback, the CEO of USA Track and Field and a track legend at White
								  Plains High School. "You can put eight people on the line, and when it's
								  finished, they can all be happy, whether it's an Olympic medal or just a
								  personal best. There's still a value in trying."  
								At the same time, most admit to how "not fun" the
								  activity truly is.  
								In fact, it's often used as a form of punishment. At
								  a football practice, someone misses a pass, he runs. Miss a free throw at
								  basketball practice, you run. When players sprint from line to line on the
								  basketball court, they're called "suicides" for a reason.  
								Mount Vernon football coach Ric Wright doesn't make
								  his team run as a penalty, but there's a reason that activity is the biggest
								  deterrent to the athletes who dread it.  
								"It's very simple," he said. "It hurts."  
								When Somers senior Niko Viglione started training as
								  a sophomore, he was injured more often than not. Road runs and hard training
								  sent pain through almost every part of his lower body.  
								Today the senior cross country and track star is
								  officially a running junkie, with 30 books about the sport and a dedicated wall
								  covered with photos of everyone from Alan Webb and Bob Kennedy to Emil Zatopek
								  winning the marathon in the 1952 Olympics.  
								"I'm really not sure," was Viglione's answer when
								  asked why he puts himself through the torture of track training. "I think it
								  has something to do with the way you feel afterwards. It's a good feeling to
								  know that you pushed yourself to your limits or even passed them."  
								So that's the intrigue  discovering limits or
								  lack thereof.  
								Samsel recalled a time, four years ago, when he
								  raced a 10-miler in extremely hot conditions. He collapsed at the finish. The
								  same thing happened a year later at a race in Central Park. He spent the rest
								  of that day in Lenox Hill Hospital.  
								He ran the next day.  
								"I was humiliated," he said. "I wanted to not feel
								  that way."  
								Pete Modaferri discovered running was his way out.
								  As a teen-ager, he found the track team at Clarkstown South as a way to keep
								  himself out of trouble. Now as an assistant coach at his alma mater, he uses it
								  to torture his athletes.  
								But Modaferri, 29, is torturing himself right along
								  with his charges.  
								"When I do workouts with these guys, it hurts so
								  much more," said Modaferri, who received a full scholarship to Fairleigh
								  Dickinson and now runs for the Westchester Track Club. "I'm getting a little
								  older. You go out and do a workout, you're hurting for two or three days. The
								  workouts are a lot harder.  
								"They hurt. They hurt a lot."  
								But it's the success that eluded Modaferri when he
								  left the team at FDU that made him start competing again. No matter what the
								  weather, snow or rain, he is running, he said. When asked where runners get
								  this cult-like addiction, he paused.  
								"That's a good question," he said.  
								For Layne, the addiction is about a feeling she
								  can't get anywhere else. Distance runs, or just about anything that lasts too
								  long, are not for her. She wants to get things over with fast. Just how fast is
								  what makes her deal with the post-race effects.  
								"You kind of get a little light-headed," she said.
								  "Your legs feel like they're going to collapse underneath you, and your throat
								  burns."  
								Layne, who's been running since she was 7 years old,
								  holds the nation's second-fastest high school time in the 55 meters this
								  season, at 6.94 seconds. Moving that fast is more like flying.  
								"It's really like you're not touching the ground,"
								  Layne said. "You're not even running, you're just going."  
								So never mind the aching, burning muscles or the
								  light-headedness and the sick stomach. The attraction to running might be
								  traced to just one simple desire.  
								"I just want to see how fast I can go," Viglione
								  said.   
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