First Time Feeling

My long run this weekend was scheduled to be 16 miles.  I finished it, and I felt pretty good...I even told my husband that I felt like I could have gone around 3 more.  His response: "That's good, because you're going to have to go 10 more."  Thanks for bursting my bubble there, Patrick...

Regardless of his comment, completing 16 miles to me is sort of like a baseline.  You see, the very first marathon that I ran, 16 miles was the farthest training run that I completed leading up to the race.  Heck, 16 miles was the farthest that I had ever run...and then I attempted to run a marathon.  If that screams "MISTAKE!!!" to you, then you can take solace in the fact that you are smarter than my 20 year old self was back then.  Because I'm pretty sure I felt adequately trained for that race...I mean, how hard can it really be to run 10 miles farther than you've ever run??  (*insert completely deserved dumb blonde joke here*)

My (now) husband ran that race with me...and I'm truly surprised we made it through that Sunday in October as an intact couple.  I will always remember the following exchange that occurred between us at mile 23, on John Herrick Drive in front of the OSU Hospital when I felt like my legs were going to cramp to the point of paralysis and had (once again) stopped to walk.

Patrick: (trying to be encouraging) You can do this...almost there!  
Me: (not encouraged and not happy)  DO NOT SAY ONE MORE WORD TO ME FOR THE REST OF THIS FREAKING RACE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   NOT. ONE. WORD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In the end, we finished all 26.2 miles.  I even have picture evidence to prove it...with me holding two bagels and looking semi-pleased.  The next day however, I was most definitely not smiling as I attempted a long walk to archery class without being able to bend my legs.  I still remember the blue and yellow wind pants I was wearing and the horrible swishing noise they made as I penguin-waddled up one of the busiest routes on campus.  When I finally got to class, I was too sore to hold the bow...so the entire effort of walking there had been for naught.  Super.

But ever since that race, 16 miles has been my baseline number.  I finished the marathon once only running 16 miles, so theoretically I could do it again, right?  I mean, sure I was 20 then and this time around I will be 29, but I could still do it if I had to.  And so, 16 miles will continue to be my baseline.  A baseline of I'd-better-run-farther-than-that-so-I-don't-collapse-and-die-and/or-ruin-my-marriage-during-or-after-the-race.  And that, my friends, is a very important baseline to have...

Pot Committed

With the clock ticking down until the last day of the 'reduced' early bird registration price, I finally took a deep breath and entered my credit card number into the online form.  $112 later, I was registered.  I know what you're thinking, "$112 to run?  On public roads?"  So let's take a look at where that $112 goes, shall we?

• Right off the top, the site tells me that $7 is going toward a processing fee.  Really?  Because I'm pretty sure that the website does all of that automatically.   If there really is a person processing the application, and they are getting $7 to type each of the 18,000 registrants' names into an Excel spreadsheet, I am quitting dentistry and applying for that job.  Total remaining fee: $105
• The marathon expo and packet pick-up is held the Friday and Saturday before the marathon.  I have no idea how much it costs to rent a space in the Convention Center, but they typically have about 130 vendors that have to rent their space.  According to the marathon website, the booth rentals range in price from $600 to $3000.  I'm calling that breaking even.  Total remaining fee: $105 (plus the $5 it costs for me to park downtown so I can pick up my packet)
• Race day security, which includes off-duty police officers and lots of volunteers.  Let's say they hire 200 off duty police officers for 8 hours at a rate of $35 an hour each.  That's $56,000 for security, divided by 18,000 race participants.  That makes my share...about $3.11.  Total remaining fee:  $101.89
• One of the race sponsors is Gatorade, so the aid stations should be pretty much free for the race.  Total remaining fee: $101.89
• The timing chip is built into the bib, which is incredibly handy.  I couldn't easily find a price for these online, but when buying something like that in bulk I can't imagine it is that expensive.  We'll say that printing the bib, adding the chip, and the price of 4 safety pins (that are generously included in the race packet) comes to $1.50.  Total remaining fee:  $100.39
• I'm going to over-estimate for how much the shirts cost because A) they are nice shirts and B) it will make me feel better about the cost of the race.  Let's say, $7 per shirt.  Total remaining fee: $93.39
• The race hands out $40,000 worth of prize money for the winners of each division.  I don't mind paying for this as someone can be an incredible athlete, work hard and win the marathon...and their prize is $5000.  That's approximately how much LeBron James makes for tying his shoes.  Elite runners are underpaid = statement of fact.  My share for the prize money is $2.23.  Total remaining fee:  $91.16
• Let's say the lovely aluminum blanket and medal they hand out at the finish will total $5.  Mostly for the medal, as the aluminum blankets cannot be more than a few cents apiece or they wouldn't hand them out like candy at a parade.  Total remaining fee:  $86.16
• The food I will consume at the end is as followed:  1 bottle of water, 1 banana, 1/2 an orange and two Krispy Kreme doughnuts.  Total for food:  $3.75.  Total remaining fee:  $82.41

I'm sure there are some expenses that the race incurs for having me there that I'm not aware of, but I would be highly surprised if they totaled more than $82.41.  But nevertheless, running the marathon is my goal, so I will pay the entrance fee (albeit begrudgingly).  I just have to remember to REALLY enjoy double-fisting those Krispy Kremes at the finish line.  After all, each one cost me about $40... 

In the (comfort) Zone

The weather the last few days has been perfect for running!  And when I say that, I mean it.  You see, my ability to completely justify not hitting the pavement has made it so my comfort zone for running is approximately the size of the head of a pin.  That's just a fancy way to say, "I routinely use the weather as an excuse not to run."

It's over 80°?  Under 40°?  Raining?  Snowing?  Too sunny?  Too windy?  Saturn's not aligned with Jupiter?  Then I'm probably not running.  I mean, you don't expect me to be uncomfortable, do you?

This 'reaching' for excuses doesn't stop at the weather.  Did I eat in the past two hours?  Have I not eaten in the past two hours? (that's some of my typical logic for you right there...)  Did I forget to drink enough water?  Did I drink any milk today?  Do I have my contacts in?  Are my shoes dry?  Is my headband clean?  Do I know where my watch is?  Do I really want to change my clothes?  Did I already shower today?  Is the washer / dryer / dishwasher on?  Did someone just post something new on Facebook?  Then I'm probably not running.

And having a child has only made this easier to do.  Does he need to eat?  Maybe a diaper change?  Will he need a nap soon?  Will my husband be home in time to watch him?  Am I feeling guilty because I should be reading to / making homemade food for / teaching him math him instead?  Then I'm probably not running.  

But these past few days have been perfect.  Temperatures in the 70s and overcast skies.  Very fall-like weather, and I have always associated fall with running, so nothing can stand in the way of me getting out there for a nice long jog!!  Nothing, except that I'm not really sure where my watch is...

Glory Days

Maybe it's the many, many hours I have spent during the past week watching the track events at the Olympics, (or maybe it's the sleep deprivation that comes from staying up late to watch 3 hours of Bob Costas & 'human interest stories' before the 9 second race is finally replayed on tape delay at 11:28 pm) but I have been waxing nostalgic about my days running cross country and track in high school.  So I dug through my high school scrapbook...and found this lovely gem:

Now I know you have several questions regarding this picture, so I will try to answer them in order of importance.

1.  Yes, I was really that skinny at one point.  But trust me, as much as Victoria's Secret would like you to believe otherwise, 6 ft, 117 lbs really isn't that attractive.  If you don't believe me, compare my arm to the baton in that picture and get back to me.
2.  Yes, that is one killer farmer's tan I have going on.  That's what happens when you train in t-shirts and (Umbro) shorts, and then put on a ridiculous uniform.
3.  Yes, those shorts are really that short.  See above statement about ridiculous uniform.
4.  Yes, I know that if I had relaxed my face I could have finished a tenth of a second faster.  And more importantly, I would have avoided looking like Piglet's angry sister in the local newspaper.

Apparently my trip down memory lane only served to once again remind me that high school wasn't all that great.  Not that it was bad, but I wasn't running Olympic level times and being sponsored by Nike either.  So maybe there is a world of difference between high school track and the elite, professional runners that are competing in London.  But somehow the ridiculous uniforms seem to stay the same...

Lisa: Friend, Runner, Hero.

I occasionally run with my good friend Lisa.  Lisa and I have been friends since pre-school and have weathered a lot of life together (along with our third amiga Katire, who I will give a shout out to despite the fact that she will not run with me and threatened to un-bookmark this blog if I didn't "keep it interesting.")  :)

Lisa has been kicking butts and taking names since 1984.  She is extremely high achieving and excels at everything she tries, including all athletic pursuits.  She teaches spinning, is a yoga instructor, and runs exceptionally well for someone who refuses to race because she doesn't want the rest of us to feel bad to put a lot of pressure on herself.

I think the differences between Lisa and me can best be demonstrated in our workout clothing.  She is always very put together in official (re: matching) running attire.  She has sweat wicking fabric for the summer and cold weather gear for the winter.  She has three pairs of running shoes that she rotates and logs the mileage on, all of which have quick tie locks on the laces.  She wears visors and sunglasses when it's sunny.  She wears matching gloves and a hat when it's cold.  She looks gooooooooooooood.

My clothing choices consist of my collection of cotton t-shirts from high school that I made my parents buy me at every race I ran.  And Umbro shorts.  And sweatpants that are really short on my 6 ft frame.  And sweatshirts that all have OSU-something on them.  And the most recent pair of Asics Gel-Kayanos that I have.  And a very expensive Gore-Tex jacket that my dad made me buy before a particularly snowy race. 

So today, as we were running through a very nice golf course community in a very nice part of town, I'm sure people were wondering if this lovely athletic looking goddess was doing some sort of community service project by running with a girl wearing a orange print bandana (to keep the flopping hair at bay), a bright pink "I run like a girl" cotton t-shirt, and aqua green shorts.  Complete the look by adding me pushing my son in a jogger and I'm sure the people driving by in their Mercedes were discreetly locking their doors.   

The best part about Lisa is that even though she's got herself put together, I know she doesn't care that I don't.  But I care...because secretly, I want to be like Lisa when I grow up.  I want to look gooooooood and be taken seriously just like Lisa is.  I want my running clothes to match and to actually know how many miles are on my shoes.  I want to wear pants that don't look like high waters and socks that haven't been chewed up by one of my dogs.  I want to kick some butts and take some names.  So maybe next time I will put on my expensive Gore-Tex jacket and actually look like I fit in running through that nice community.  I just hope it's not August and 90 degrees when I do it...

My Failure to Plan...Is My Own Problem.

Yesterday's run epitomizes one of the traits about myself that I dislike the most: I am a perfectionist that is a complete and utter failure in the planning ahead and thinking things through department.  Examples:

• We are late for everything, and as much as I really don't like it (I swear I don't think we are being 'fashionable') I never plan ahead until 5 minutes before we need to leave.  And then we walk in late (like, walking-down-the-aisle-right-in-front-of-the-bride late) and I am humiliated. 
• With any project that I have ever done, I put absolutely no thought into it...but then that errant brushstroke, that row with one too many stitches, or the color that isn't quite right drives me bananas every time I look at it!!!
• I sign up to run a marathon, and then I don't train for it  :)

Well, I am trying to fix that last one.  And I did finish my 14 miler yesterday evening.  But during the run I discovered that I had made two decisions during the course of the weekend that both prove that I cannot think farther than 10 minutes into the future at any given moment.

Decision 1 - I got an awesome haircut from my awesome stylist.  However, it is very, very short and I cannot get it back into a ponytail.  Or even pigtails.  This was probably not the smartest decision to cut my hair this short right as I am attempting to train for the marathon.  I did my best and used a headband, but it flopped around for 14 straight miles.

Decision 2 - My husband and I drove back from a trip to Illinois yesterday, and lunch was Taco Bell. Enough said.

So training is moving along, and with any luck I will get myself to the starting line before 7:30 am on October 21st.  But if I were a betting woman, I would say it's more likely I'll be there around 7:45...

Welcome to my goal. Thank you for signing up.

I never pictured myself starting a blog...mostly because I think of them more as a way to update people on your life, and I never seem to have any updates worth sharing.  But over the past few months, an idea to start a blog as a way to keep me accountable to a goal in my life started to form...and goodness knows I need any help I can get!  So if you are reading this, you are (inadvertently, I'm sure) part of my goal.  Lucky you...

In January of 2012, my husband and I welcomed our (awesome) son and my world drastically changed.  One of the things that I have been fighting to hold onto in this new world of mommy-hood is the idea that despite my new role, I can still be the same girl who liked to do things like travel to Europe and long distance run.  And since traveling to Europe with an infant doesn't even sound like fun to me...I guess that leaves the running.  :)

Last year was the first time that I hadn't run either the Columbus full or half marathon in 8 years.  Sure, I was pregnant...but when the pictures hit Facebook of one of my friends at the finish of the half, looking awesome AND more pregnant than me, I felt nothing but guilt that I hadn't even tried!  I pledged to myself that day that I would run the full marathon in 2012.

So here it is, August of 2012 and reality is kicking in.  Busy weeks have bled into busier weekends, and I have started to doubt.  Can I be super-wife, super-mom, super-daughter, super-sister, super-dentist, super-friend, AND super-runner?  Well, I'm going to try...and if I think even one person is reading this blog, it makes me THAT much more likely to hit the road and finish those training runs (that's where you come in.)  I will periodically update with how my training is going...and maybe some humorous stories along the way.  So here I go...wish me luck!