Sublime Pain

You guys. I did it.

26.2 miles in just under 5 hours and 30 minutes. I totally broke down in the last 6 miles. Forget 13 miles being the halfway point. The split is definitely 20 and 6. I started to really hurt around mile 17 but knew I still had a looong way to go, so I gritted my teeth (along with other things) and kept moving.

And then my legs began to HATE me. Somewhere around mile 21 I really didn't think I was going to make it. There were a few tears, but my cheering section got me through it and I don't know if I would have made it without them.

Leave it to a Type A perfectionist to focus on the fact that she could have done it faster (I was on target for 5 hours until the breakdown point), but getting faster will be the goal for next time. I now know I CAN do it. So that's that.

Oh, and my legs? They still hate me. As do my arms actually, and my shoulders, my back, and my heels. Going down steps is the worst (it engages the quads the most), and it may take me an extra half hour to get to work tomorrow because of the subway steps. I've been moving around like a 90 year old lady for the past two days.

Anyway, here's a shot along the course (I think about mile 10):



Crossing the finish line (that guy totally got in the way of my mom's vantage point):



The day after:



Chloe and Sammy (my parents' cat) were tired too:

Rising to the Level of Mediocrity.

I know you're probably sick of me whining about politics, but hey, it's my f*%&ing blog, ok, and I'll whine if I want to. At least I'm posting, right?

I hate to say it, but Gwen Iffil, who I generally have a lot of respect for, totally dropped the ball. She was so afraid of appearing biased, she sat there like a wet blanket and let Palin run amok. What kind of serious debate can be had when one of the debaters starts off by cheerfully asserting that she's not going to answer any questions that she doesn't want to and is just going to speak directly to the American people without this pesky media middleman? And Iffil let her do it. It wasn't Biden's job to hold her feet to the fire. It was Iffil's. And she blew it.

For all of Palin's wink wink nudge nudge substance free spewing, at least the general consensus seems to be that Biden won. The moment when he visibly choke up talking about being a single parent was unexpected and powerful. And what did she do? Continue to drone on blithely with her memorized talking points. Granted, how do you really respond to someone who gets emotional during a debate, but it was like she didn't even notice it happened. Or she just freaked out and pretended it didn't at all.

This summarizes my sentiments exactly. And this is pure genius.

One week from today, I will be an official marathoner. As further mental incentive, I'm beginning to tell myself that if I don't finish strong, McCain-Palin wins. And I can't have that.

20 Miles. By The Numbers.

Miles: 20. Duh.
Gu Gels consumed: 4
Ounces of Gatorade consumed: ~ 16
Ounces of water consumed: ~ 32
Time: 3:55
Number of times I elbowed idiot tourists who shuffle along staring upward without a care in the world: 6
Temperature when I began: 53
Temperature when I finished: 64
Minutes it took to hail a cab to take me home because I couldn't walk another step: 10
Ounces of chocolate milk I drank post run: 8
Inches of a Subway sandwich I scarfed a few minutes ago: 12

For those who know NYC, I mapped out a pretty decent route (thank you Google maps!). Down the west side Hudson River parkway to the World Financial Center, across lower Manhattan at Chambers Street (past the courthouses I frequent all the time, which were kind of cool to see on a quiet empty Saturday morning), through part of Chinatown (where the majority of the elbowing of the tourists occurred), up the FDR Drive to 72nd Street, across the east side to Central Park, up 5th Avenue to 86th Street into the park, and a 4.5 mile loop in the park to finish. Yeah, there was no way in hell I was walking another 1.5 miles back home at that point.

Time to rest up, ice the shins, clean out the DVR a bit, and then drag myself up and out for a birthday party at which I will likely stay until 10:30 pm when I turn into a pumpkin.

Oof.

So, I got to interact with this man again today. Mmmm. All aflutter.

And now, at 9pm, I get a heads up phone call that the bosses have rearranged our entire suite of offices, and starting tomorrow I'm in a different office, where I will be sharing with the new attorney when she starts after labor day. This wasn't a surprise at all - it's what I've been mad about for weeks - but I didn't think they were moving stuff around today. Apparently they got in the zone and decided to stay late and be manly and move furniture. I can just see them shedding their ties and rolling up their sleeves.

So why do I feel a little violated? Because I wasn't ready for it? Because they moved all my stuff and files and papers which were in semi-messy but still organized-to-me piles which I'm now going to have to go through and organize AGAIN tomorrow before I leave for my mini-vacation of all of three days off?

I have to run 8 miles in the morning and be at the office (in my NEW office, ugh) at 9 to prep a witness before a 10 am deposition. This means I have to get up at like 5. Awesome! So excited.

I'm going to bed.

You mean I get to keep eating?

12 miles. Toast with peanut butter, coffee, and water beforehand. Water, gatorade, and a gel pack during. (I should have brought two - last couple miles were brutal.) Ice bath followed by warm shower. Then, more food. I went for a scrambled egg plus two egg whites with shredded cheese and salsa wrapped in a tortilla.

It's barely 1pm. I've already eaten 800-900 calories. But I burned 1200. SO WEIRD.

I'm not doing this to lose weight. I've been in reasonably good shape for years, and just wanted to undertake the challenge. Certain pants do feel a bit looser, which is always nice. But this whole knowing how much to eat thing is worrisome. People tell me to "eat more than you think you should" but I've also heard about how some people actually gain weight during marathon training, strange as it may sound.

Fuck, things hurt. Left hip flexor. Right knee. Left baby toe. Right shin. HEELS. I'm gonna ice, watch the rest of Save the Last Dance on TBS, and possibly take a nap so I'll be ready to take on the dinner and party I have to attend tonight. In flats.

How to Tire of Music.

Seems difficult, huh? Well, train for a marathon, and the same 1000 or so songs get old quickly. I haven't decided whether I'll be using the ipod during the actual marathon (Born to Run v. the cheering crowd?), but for now I've discovered the joy of audio books. I'm currently half way through one of James Patterson's Alex Cross murder mystery novels (I love them), but I feel the need to venture outside the box.

So, I'm taking recommendations. It needs to be engaging, intense but not requiring TOO much brain power, and possessing some quality which will make me focus on the story images in my head and not my breathing or the eventual ache in my legs, neck, shin, etc.

So what should I "read" next?

I'm not superstitious. But this is ridiculous.

This morning, when I was running in Riverside Park, moving to the music and enjoying the warmth of the sun on my shoulders, I stopped short because of something in my path.

A crow. Just sitting there. Chilling. Not picking around or eating. Sitting. In my path. Usually birds/squirrels/small children move out of the way when a person/bike/bigger animal or child comes whizzing by. Nope. Not this bird. He eyed me for a minute, turned around 360 degrees, and flew off, his black feathers gleaming in the sunshine. I began moving again. And suddenly I was cold.

Sunday Soliloquy

I always read the NY Times' Modern Love columns on Sundays. They're full of angst, desire, regret, briefly held joy, but ultimately some kind of disappointment. Always a good read for the closet romantics out there. Today, the editors began running the winners of their College Essay Contest.

Here it is.

Finished? Ok. Something about this girl's essay makes me very uncomfortable. She's a decent writer - I'll give her that. But I kind of think she...might be a slut? (I know you judge people all the time so gimme a break.) She's a junior in college, so she's what? 20 or 21 years old? Unless she's exaggerating the number of guys she has [insert euphemism here - it is the subject of the essay], the girl has been... active. For a long time.

Now, I admit I'm on the low end of the spectrum when it comes to relationship experience. As someone in her late 20s, I alternate between thinking this is perfectly fine and I'm just one of those people who will meet someone fabulous at some point or another and know immediately that it's right, or on the other hand, there is desperately something wrong with me because I don't jump at every guy who smiles, winks, or nods at me.

Still, even this girl with all of her "experience" and whimsical yet disconcerting stories doesn't seem to have any more insight than I do. So what's the point? Those times where I have met someone and then a week later felt only longing and disappointment haven't propelled me any closer to what I want.

Moving on, I'm contemplating whether to join a running group for my training. I'm following an 18 week program, which doesn't technically begin until the second week of June. Right now, I'm just working on keeping my base steady. Yesterday I decided to just go out for as long as possible at an easy pace to see what I can do, which was about 7 miles. Decent for not having trained for anything in a few years, right? The benefit of the training group would only be for the long runs on the weekend. Although, at the height of training before the taper, I'll be running 10 miles on a Wednesday, which boggles my mind right now. The thing is, which I said to my mom yesterday cracking her up, I don't really like people. That sounds worse than it is. I have many friends who plan to be at the race cheering me on with T-shirts reading "Kick Ass Phault, [Harmless]". I kind of feel like no one's going to be running the marathon with me, aside from the thousands of other people around me who will also be in essence, alone, so I might as well get used to being on my feet by myself for hours at a time.

Finally, I'm refusing to post about work until I have something nice to say without immediately following it with something not so nice. Posting may therefore continue to be light for a while...

I've clearly lost my mind.

I signed up for the ING Hartford Marathon. Saturday October 11, 2008. My only goal, other than to simply finish, is to beat Katie Holmes' time. I've been in a rut lately - mentally, physically, and emotionally. While this will be 90% physical, the other two will definitely come into play. So that's what's happening. It will be a long sweaty summer.

My birthday is next week. I think I'm turning 80.

I'm pretty sure it's not normal that my leg feels better when running than when walking or going down steps. Apparently I'm potassium and calcium deficient. But I kind of hate bananas (it's not that I hate them - they just have to be eaten at the perfect time - over or under ripe bananas are gross) and don't drink milk outside of cereal. Spinach has calcium, right? Why isn't that enough?

On another note, I dvr old episodes of ER that are on TNT in the mornings. I erase most of them, but do watch the classic ones. Like the one that was on today, when Dr. Greene goes to Hawaii with Rachel and dies and it's quite possibly the saddest thing I've ever seen ever and it was such a momentous event that NBC allowed Anthony Edwards to say the word "shit" on network television.

This was a very boring post. Then again, I am almost 80 years old.

This is what I get for going running in the morning.

My shoelace came untied, and my key to the building front door somehow slipped off. Thankfully my apartment key did not, and when I got back I only had to wait a few minutes for someone to come out of the building so I could get in. I have another one, although I'm not supposed to duplicate them. There goes my key deposit.