to run or not to run.

Some friends brought up the possibility of running Grandma's Marathon in June. I am totally on the fence on this one. So, I'm making more lists.

Reasons to run a marathon:
- Bragging rights.
- Ability to eat whatever I want, I mean we're talking ice cream and chocolate every day without guilt.
- I've already done it, so I know I can.
- It is pretty empowering and all that.
- If I train in the winter/spring I won't be ruining my summer with training.
- I have a lot of trouble staying up past 11 on Friday nights anyway, so why NOT run an insane amount on Saturday mornings?


Reasons not to run a marathon:
- Been there, done that.
- Such a huge stressful time commitment.
- The last time I trained and worked at the same time, all I did was run, work, and eat.
- Uhh, it's hard and stuff.

Crap there are totally more reasons in the pro column. This was not my goal!

my first marathon.

The following is long, unorganized, possibly boring, and more for me than you. In fact, writing this was maybe more difficult than the marathon itself, and I feel a huge sense of relief knowing that it's finally done.


A lot of people have asked me why I wanted to run a marathon. Although there were a lot of reasons, they often escaped me in the midst of training. Somehow in the middle of everything it just became something I did. There were benefits, sure: I could eat whatever I wanted and still be thin, and not to mention the bragging rights. But there was also a lot of time and pain invested in the whole process.

It really started last year when I ran the 10 mile race at the Twin Cities Marathon. It was fun, but at the end I felt like I hadn't been challenged enough. I wanted to do more. And while I realized 26.2 miles is a lot more than ten, it was something I wanted to do at least once, just to say that I did.

In the week before the race, I started to get more and more nervous. I worried about the weather, leg cramps, or anything that would get in the way of me not being able to finish. I'd get anxious at work just thinking about it, and would have to change the topic if it were being discussed too long. It wasn't until Saturday night sometime, when I put on my running shorts and straightened my hair, that I started to calm down. It was an incredibly silly thing to do but somehow it relaxed and excited me at the same time. The marathon was coming and there was nothing I could do to stop it, nor could I control the weather, but it was going to be okay.

And the marathon did come. My friends and I wondered why we were so worried, after all, it was just running. Not a big deal at all! It was so hot and sticky we started sweating at the gates. It didn't take us long to realize that any time goals we might have had were about to be thrown out the window.

For me, the heat was sort of a mixed blessing. Since it was my first marathon, I couldn't think about how much better the weather was elsewhere. And it really solidified why we were there - not to finish at a certain time, but simply to finish. All we had to do was relax, and run. Sure, it was damn hot. At points I said, "We are running in a fucking sauna." So I adapted by pouring water over my head at every stop. I ditched my tank top somewhere past the halfway point. And I laughed when we crossed any splits (for instance, my half marathon split was almost 20 minutes slower than the one I finished in October). Eventually the sun went away and a breeze came out and I felt much more comfortable.

It's hard to talk about a 26 mile run because it's just so long. But overall, it went really well. All of the worries I had that my legs would fall apart...it didn't happen. I even felt like I had a decent amount of energy considering the heat..and the miles. Here's the crazy part - I had a good time. I was expecting portions of it to be really painful, to feel like I wasn't going to be able to finish, or just to have some other mental anguish. And maybe I was just in a continual state of delirium, but I had a really good time. Yes. I had fun running a marathon.

The crowds were fabulous. There were so many people out and in some sections it was like I was completely surrounded by people cheering us on. Some people dressed up, and I even hugged one person dressed as a chicken because my friend dared me to. Others gave out food (bananas, apples, candy, even beer) or were just encouraging (who doesn't like to hear they look gorgeous when they feel sweaty and disgusting?).

During the last six miles, we started to slow down and took a lot more walk breaks. I was okay with this. The end was definitely the slowest part, as evidenced by our splits. But at one point I remarked about how with every step we took, we had run farther than we had even run before. By the time we got to mile 22, 23 it was just a matter of going through the motions to finish. As we descended the hill by the Cathedral to the Capital, the last two tenths of a mile, it was almost as if my feet and my legs were moving but I wasn't moving them anymore - they just kept on going, controlled by inertia. We crossed the finish line just under 5 hours by the official clock, and at 4:53 according to our chip time.

Afterwards there was some recovery - I didn't really feel like eating and felt kind of crappy for much of the day later. The next few days involved walking slowly, cringing as I went down stairs, and lots of sleep.

I've been asked if I'm going to do another marathon, and my best guess is that someday, I will. But I'm not in any hurry.

Thanks to everyone for their support: my family for coming out to cheer me on (and also for sending flowers), Nick, Cassie, Kim, Julie, LaVonne, Niko, countless friends of friends, and everyone who cheered me on even if they couldn't be there.

breathe.

It's soon. It's really soon. It's a little over 48 hours away and I'm nervous.


To distract myself, I've been falling in love with butternut squash.

home stretch.

On running:
The marathon is now only 18 days away. Eeek. We finished our last long run, 20 miles, on Saturday. We ran (and ran and ran and ran) and reminisced about how far we've come. Remember that awful 12 mile run way back in July? I'll spare you from going into the super cheesy bit about how proud I am of myself and yadda yadda. As crazy as it sounds, getting up early on Saturdays to run a for few hours has become pretty normal and almost addicting. That said, I'm really happy to be getting a slight break from it. Only 10-12 miles this weekend! Woo!

On reading:
I signed up for a MPR membership way back in June, partly because I had been meaning to for a while, but mostly because I wanted a subscription to The New Yorker. And FINALLY, it's here...just when I have no time to read it. Never mind that I'd go to the library specifically to page through it over the summer....but it's still lovely to have around. I'm also working on No One Belongs Here More Than You (Miranda July). It's good before bed stuff.

Other:
Fall is almost here, so I guess that means it's the perfect time to get a cold. So. Awesome.

on training, ii.

Today was a 13 mile run. I went with friends who were going 11, so I parked a mile away from the meeting point to get my extra two miles in.

The run today was just...hard. It was hot. I wouldn't say I've gotten an ample amount of sleep in the past few days. I started out fine, being a cheerleader to my friends and trying to end any negative talk. But in the second half of the run, I was the negative nilly. My breathing was heavy. I started to whimper like a sad puppy at stoplights. A whiny voice in my head said, "I don't wanna run a whole marathon! I don't want to even run half!"

Somewhere a bit later, the breathing got easier but it was like my legs couldn't move. By this point we were going pretty slow. We passed a family on the sidewalk, who were of course taking up the whole thing with their strollers and what not. The guy had the nerve to say, "Come on, you can go faster than that!" It took a lot of strength not to say, "Shut up." Instead I just said, "11 miles," the tone implying, "Hey bunghole, talk to me when you've done the same." My friend smartly muttered "Fuck you" under her breath.

And after all of this, I somehow pulled it around on my last lone mile. It was slow, but not awful. The good news: next week, my long run is only ten miles. (haha. haha. What have I gotten myself into? I don't know either.)

on training.

I am in the midst of marathon training, which is only 99 days away! Yikes. Today I ran about 10.3 miles. Now, I have friends who have run multiple marathons who would just nod as I tell them this. I also have friends who would say something like, "WHAT? You are crazy. How do you do that?"

So, a primer. How to run 10 miles.

First you tell yourself that you are going to run 10 miles. Then you do it. While you do it, leave your ipod at home (headphones hurt for that long, and it's bad for your ears). Don't even bring a watch! Do bring a water bottle. Go slow, and walk frequently. Write blog entries in your head, or have conversations with cute boys you will meet in coffee shops, bars, etc. When you get to the Mississippi River, smile. It's blue and the leaves are green and everything looks a little more amazing when you just ran 5 miles to see it. Then turn around and think about how awesome you are. When you're done, stretch a lot. Look at the clock and laugh at how pathetically long you've been gone. Then eat a lot, and take a nap if you have time.

Yeah, fine, there is some training involved before you can get to this point, and my legs are kind of dying right now, but that's how you do it.