11 Days and Counting

This has been a challenging marathon season to say the least. You've heard enough of my moaning and groaning about my disc injury and the unfairness of life as a result. To top it off my obsession with the election has made it all but impossible to embrace the awesomeness that is the New York City Marathon. I've spent the better part of the year absorbing everything MSNBC, The New York Times, Huffington Post, CNN, blogs by political-savvy friends, NPR has to offer. I've lost sleep, my acid reflux is back, and I'm sure I'm developing cancer of the esophagus, which has me worried because no one does a walk to raise money for cancer of the esophagus.

I am happy to report that, while my Election '08 obsession continues, I am finally, FINALLY, getting excited about the marathon. This morning Alison and I did our speed work in Central Park, which included sprints crossing the finish line at Tavern-On-The-Green. It was cold, it was early, so it took me a minute to notice that, hey, the men are out assembling the bleachers! Look! The flags designating the marathon route are waving! It's a beautiful day! My back doesn't hurt! I've had great runs the past few weeks! And I'm going to have a great race!

I am going to have a great race. It's not something I have to force myself to believe; it just is. After all my complaining and all the struggles and all the physical therapy, the voice inside my head that knows everything told me that I am going to enjoy November 2nd and I am going to run strong. I am going to have a great race.

Grete's Gallop

Wow, what perfect weather! It was a lovely day for a run last Saturday, and I took advantage by mentally and physically preparing all week in hopes of a strong race. I didn't disappoint myself; I finished feeling good and only one minute slower than last year, where I PR'd at 2:00:something. This year was 2:01: something. But, that's ok, I had a great race, especially compared to how I've been doing this year. The night before the race I ate linguine with white clam sauce. I think pasta is the way to go. I've experimented with a more balanced plate: a protein, a vegetable, and a starch. But, I'd been losing steam at the end. Having a more carb-heavy dinner proved effective, at least on Saturday. I'll continue down this road and see if it continues to make a difference.

Feeling good?

Alright, so I'm not as fast as I was last year. So what?
I came in 4 minutes slower at the 18 mile tune up this year than last.
I'd be ok with this "getting slower" crap if I understood why it's happening. My disc isn't the problem. I'm eating what I think I should be eating. I never get enough sleep, but who does and when has that ever been an issue?
I did a good 4 mile speed work out this morning. I'm going to time myself around the 6 mile loop tomorrow...actually, scratch that. Grete's Gallop is two loops around CP, so I'm staying out of the park for the rest of the week. Speaking of, my average pace per mile at Grete's was 9:12. My 18 mile pace last year was 9:35. Over the weekend it was 9:47! OK, so it was incredibly humid and horrible outside, that may have affected me.
If anyone has any theories about why I may be getting slower I am willing to listen.

20 Miles

I am chaffed in a very bad place.

20 miles with the NYRR, Alison, Amanda, and Andy on Saturday. It was a relatively painless run, save for the last 4 miles and the discovery later on in the shower of the chaffing in a very bad place. The good news is my before-run meal plan (oatmeal with honey, cinnamon, and lactaid) is working, as is ingesting Gu every hour and a half. I've learned this season to eat the Gu before I start losing energy instead of after I've lost the will to live.

Alan (why do almost all of my runner friends have "A" names? I feel like I'm part of some weird clique, like in "Heathers".) called yesterday after running the Queens Half. He's not feeling optimistic about running the marathon. I haven't had a chance to give him the "you can do it" pep talk. I'm probably not in the best position to motivate anyone since I've struggled this year myself.

On the opposite end of the running spectrum, Barnett sent a text saying he ran the half in an hour and a half, which is a pr for him. Good Lord. These days I'm lucky if I'm running under a 9 minute mile.

Things I Did Wrong

In preparation for last week's 16 mile run I:

1. Did not eat the night before.
2. Did not eat enough in the morning.

Stupid.

Coming back from what started as a great run -- down Park Avenue in celebration of the city's Summer Streets, then across the Brooklyn Bridge, back up Park Avenue and finish with two CP 1.7 loops -- I felt my body give up. It literally deflated like a slashed tire. And, it didn't occur to me that I didn't eat enough until my body said "No", quietly, but forcefully.

I did a couple of things right, though. First, I met another runner who was having a hard time and hung with him for awhile. I planned to stop at mile 11 until my new friend Kevin said he was going to run - walk the rest. He was going to run-walk, but he was going to finish.

Second, Kevin and I hooked up with Pauline, a spunky little woman who was running at a reasonable pace and had enough energy to carry Kevin and I, though Kevin did have to walk again. I managed to hang with Pauline, surviving only because she was super chatty and I had a feeling she needed someone to hang with her, too.

So, I had yet another bad long run. But, I did finish. And, I guess that is always something to celebrate. And, side note: I took my first ice bath. In four years of running I've never taken an ice bath. I will not make a habit of it as it was -- excuse me for stating the obvious -- fracking freezing, but I must admit it TOTALLY worked. My muscles recovered in, like, no time. I had no pain the following day.

18 miles tomorrow. Fingers crossed I did something right tonight.

I had my first workout with Anthony this afternoon. We're concentrating on core strength, which I'm going to do two days a week. This, along with my four day a week running schedule and one day of yoga will, hopefully, make me stronger an keep my body relatively safe from injury. It's taken me a minute to fully embrace running less, but I'm listening to Abby and Anthony and Dr. Amico, who have all said the NYRR training schedule is crazy. I used that schedule for two years, and it turned me into a runner, that is for sure, but I want to be more than a runner; I want to be a strong athlete who will be able to run for years. Anthony said it best; I'm not a professional athlete with access to expensive therapy and round-the-clock trainers. I don't have the time for it either. I work full time and have a million other things I do in addition, so I need to be smart.

This new training schedule should also help me enjoy running again, I hope. It's been so hard these past few weeks and not really any fun at all.

8.8.08

The Olympics start today in Beijing! Not many people know this, but I am a sucker for the opening ceremony. I gotta say, it gets me right in the heart every time. Tears, I say. Tears.

Where does the time go? It's already August and I'm not feeling the marathon training this year. I'm no where near ready. I'll do my first 13 mile run this weekend, and I'll see how I feel after that, but I gotta admit I'm having a tough time. I'm tired. My body, generally, does not want to move. And, my little disc problem is flaring up again. What the hell?

OK, ok, so I'm complaining -- AGAIN. I know it's not fun to read someone bitch and moan, so let me give out some positive energy as I replay the running week.

Good stuff did happen. Speed work day was actually pretty good. My quad did not seize up and I did my "don't be afraid to be uncomfortable" chant as I ran around Sheep's Meadow in 3rd gear. And, we did some crazy sprints up a hill where I got to practice high knees. Abby says I'm improving.

Also this week: Alison and I finally got around to the weight training we've been threatening to incorporate. We're doing Wednesday mornings in the gym. Six pack here I come.

This morning: well, I did not feel like running, but I got my ass out of bed and ran 4 miles in the park. Once I got going I felt pretty good. I was anticipating a slow, painful drudge, but I was pretty speedy and comfortable.

The weather has been mild. Mornings are relatively cool and almost humidity-free. Maybe this change in the weather will re-energize me, get me feelin' good again.

I am so going back to Asics! Mizunos aren't my friend. They have a serious grudge against my feet, my toes in particular.

Gossip

Mariana told me that her friend told her not to be afraid to be uncomfortable.

Scandalous.

I woke up on Tuesday, early, and headed to CP for the torture that is speed work. I didn't give myself enough time to stretch, so I was stressed. The threat of re-injury whispers to me periodically, so I try never to start a run without at least 20 minutes of stretching. When we got to our location I tried to cram in some hamstring and quad stretches, but noticed that my left quad was still sore from the previous week, which seemed strange since it never takes my muscles that long to recover; plus, my right side was fine. I decided to ignore it and go about the business of "gear shifting" around Sheep's Meadow. Basically, we started running in 1st gear and had to work our way up to 5th so by the time we were at the the south part of the loop we were sprinting. (This is a hard exercise, by the way, and I highly recommend it.) So, there I was trotting along in 1st gear until the point where I had to shift to 2nd. Still ok, just a little faster, not bad. Then it was time to shift to 3rd, which is definitely out of the comfort zone. I sped up, started breathing harder, thought about slowing down for a split second, when Mariana's friend's words flashed in my head:

"Don't be afraid to be uncomfortable."

I shifted to 4th gear.

"Don't be afraid to be uncomfortable."

Shifted to 5th and sprinted up the slight incline, then came back down the other side, only putting on the brakes so as not to loose complete control. As I rounded the corner, full speed, Abby told me to keep my elbows at my sides and not let my arms cross in front. She also clapped in support.

We were given time to let our heart rates come down before the next assignment, which was the loop again, but this time running the whole thing in 3rd gear. Halfway through I kept up my mantra "don't be afraid to be uncomfortable", and I was very uncomfortable, but at least I wasn't afraid.

I'd love to say this story ends with the heroine empowered and faster than a speeding bullet, but she was thwarted by the aforementioned quad pain that resulted in a major cramp during the last exercise -- sprinting to a tree and back. I've never felt my leg seize up like that before. It was like that runner at the Olympic trials this year who, during his sprint, just collapsed because his muscles wouldn't cooperate. I have since taken a rolling pin to the offending quad and am hoping for a better result next week.

Saturday will be my first long run since the injury. 13 miles. I'm going to stretch like there's no tomorrow. And, I'm not going to be afraid.

Training Runs

In an effort to get re-inspired / learn something new about running / get faster I've started running with Nike's 26.2 training group on Saturdays and I'm doing Abby's speed work class on Tuesday mornings.

Nike splits you up by pace and designs different running courses every week, which is great for me because I've been married to the West Side Highway / Hudson River and Central Park 5 and 6 mile loops for the past few years. So, learning new routes will be a nice change. Plus, running with a pacer will let me know if my 3:45:59 goal for this year is completely insane or just slightly crazy.

Abby's speed work class is a killer. It's an hour of all kinds of sprints -- sprint up hill, sprint around Sheep's Meadow, sprint to the tree and back, do some crazy leg exercise then sprint to the volleyball court and back. Holy crap. I did it for the first time last week and was in so much pain for the rest of the week. But, I'm going back tomorrow.

My attitude this season is very different from the last two years. I'm not as excited as I've been in the past; I feel like I'm starting over, which is slightly frustrating. The injury has forced me to take a look at everything I do wrong as a runner. I don't use my whole leg -- I use my thighs, but my calves aren't engaged. (Hopefully, the speed work classes will help solve that problem.) And, I don't push through my whole foot. Usually I either run on my toes or I'm too flat footed. Last week I practiced changing my gait to get my calves working and get my feet to do the right thing. It's hard work, though, leaving my comfort zone. And, it's exhausting.

Something that hasn't changed from the past is that my feet hurt like hell. Alison is going to try a more padded pair of Asics to see if it relieves some of her foot pain. If it works I think I'll do the same. I've got a pair of Mizunos right now that I'm not in love with. Why did I feel the need to change shoes? I've been wearing Asics for three years and they've been fine. The idea of something new is almost always better than the reality. Ain't it the truth.

I'm back (sorta)

(When you have a second check out Recession This! which is a new blog of which I am a founder and contributer.)

After eight weeks of therapy two times a week I'm finally running again! I'm not at 100% yet, and I'm only running about 20 minutes at a time. (I cheated over the weekend and ran 30 minutes. I blame Madonna. I was listening to music and one of her songs came on just as I was coming to the end, so I decided one more song wouldn't hurt. That's probably what A-Rod thought, too.) But, I do feel much better than when this mess first started.

I'm totally inspired by the Olympics this year. It's always pretty inspiring, but Dara Torres is the woman! 41 years old and breaking records. I hope we don't find out in a week or five years that she was "juiced". Not my terminology, btw -- Dr. Amico said that this morning as he's very skeptical of my girl. Every time I start doubting my Boston Marathon goal I think of Dara, who is not only 41, but also a mom. I'm not a mom and I'm not 41. And, my injury is not life threatening or going to prevent me from running 3:45:59 this year, dammit!

Alison is getting ready for the triathalon in less than two weeks. I'm looking forward to being a spectator. I thought I'd change my mind about doing a tri, but I'm still not feeling it. I'm perfectly happy swimming simply to get relief from the heat and have no desire to dunk my head in the Hudson. Nor do I wish to experience the sore butt cycling brings, though I have mad respect for those who do.

July 14: Run in Central Park for the first time in 3 months.

Pain in the...

I've been on a forced hiatus from running since May. I may or may not have a herniated disc in my lower back; the question will be answered by Thursday when the results of my MRI come in. Dr. Amico says he'll be surprised if it's not a herniated disc. I still don't know exactly what it means in terms of recovery. Dr. A says it can take from six weeks to six months to fully recover. I'm hanging on to the six week diagnosis.

So, this pain started about seven weeks ago, and instead of taking care of it right away I continued to run, which made it worse. In my defense the pain in my lower back wasn't all that different from pain I've had in the past. It always went away before; I didn't think this time would be different, like life altering different. And, I'm not being dramatic when I say it's "life altering". The pain travels from my lower back down my left leg to the bottom of my foot, making sitting, standing, walking, and lying down challenging, at best. I brace myself when I sneeze or cough. In addition, I'm in physical therapy twice a week, I sit on an ice pack four times a day, and I'm on my third doctor as of Thursday. (I'm going to see a physical medicine doctor per my primary care physician's suggestion. What the hell is physical medicine?)

I can't run, which is the most life altering part of all. To go from running five or six days a week to not running at all has changed me physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Not being able to run, simply put, totally sucks. Being in constant pain, unless I take a ton of Advil, totally sucks. Sitting down sucks. Standing up sucks. It all sucks. It makes me appreciate my life before that day in April when I went to the gym and did too many squat-lunge-twist-with-ten-pound-weights. I know it's a cliche, the whole "I'll never take my health for granted again", and it's bullshit because, yes, we all take everything for granted until something goes wrong. But, I am going to remember this so that the minute I start taking my health for granted I'll read this blog and tell myself to stop being an idiot.

Blah

I was just reading Kristin Armstrong's blog on Runner's World. (If you don't read it you should. Her recap of her Boston Marathon experience is inspiring, while also a totally fun read.) In her latest entry she talks about taking a break from running and how she enjoys the time off (a week off after running the marathon), and wonders if she should start "seeing" other forms of exercise, like yoga or pilates. I often dream of a life where I don't take a break from running, but am able to add stuff like yoga and weight training (I've never done pilates) to my workout. It's nearly impossible to fit anything else into my schedule, especially when I'm training for the marathon. I blame my full time job. If I just didn't have it I'd be able to do all the extra-curricular exercising I want. I wouldn't be able to afford those yoga classes, however, so, ok, maybe quitting my job is not the best idea.

Actually, right now I'm in a bit of a funk, hence the title of this entry. My schedule got all messed up for a few weeks for very good reasons. First, there was that pesky Living In Captivity shooting schedule. A script I co-wrote with Uma and Nicole (hey, NUmErical!) was funded with a bunch of money (ok, not a "bunch", but enough, and most of it was not ours) so we could actually shoot it, submit it to some t.v. festivals, and live out our dreams of being paid writers / executive producers / rich ladies. It was six days of very early mornings, with about 11 hours of shooting per day, surrounded by the snack-filled craft services table that, even if you're not hungry, you can't help but grab a handful of kettle corn and stuff it in your mouth. Then, I went to Florida where I tended to my family, specifically my sister who had surgery. (She is doing very well, thanks for asking.)

So, running took a back seat while I was dealing with life, and I missed it terribly. While I was doing cool stuff and being a responsible member of my very awesome family, I really missed the routine of my life.

But, when I attempted to get back into the routine of my life I discovered I couldn't do everything I'd done before. Yes, I was back at work, and yes, Kirk and I were back to spending time together. But, I couldn't run and here's why. I've had a pain in my lower back for weeks that I've managed not to deal with because I've been dealing with everything else. While I was in Florida I told my mom about it and, of course, she wouldn't stop bugging me about it until I promised to see a doctor as soon as I returned to New York. (Note: I did run twice in Florida, I think a total of four miles.)

I have an appointment with a chiropractor reccomended by a triathlete friend of Alison's. Fingers crossed it's something that can be solved with a few anti-inflammatories.

Special Guests

Now that the fog has lifted and I'm back to things as usual, I realize I forgot to mention two very special guests on the marathon course -- Mariana Silva and Melissa Jones.

Mariana, who was scheduled to run the marathon this year, but, sadly, had to forgo her space due to injury, cheered for us in Brooklyn AND in Manhattan. She made a pink flag in honor of Alison, Ciara, and pink shirts (not planned, btw), and, was therefore, easy to spot in the massive crowds. Plus, her arms did not get tired holding a bothersome sign, a lesson my fiancee and soon-to-be in laws learned very quickly. Mariana has been and continues to be our biggest cheerleader, coming out to races at 7:00a.m. to encourage us on (Nike Half), getting Alison entry into that same race, and, as mentioned, trekking around two boroughs to help us at the 'thon. And, she's cute as a button. Seriously, the girl is so freakin' adorable everyone she meets falls madly in love with her.

Melissa, who I met through Alison, gets so excited about our running. She's another one who supports every inch of the way. She was around mile 18 on 1st Avenue, then she high-tailed it over to 5th Avenue at mile 22ish with her big yellow sign to cheer us on to the last four miles. Unless you've run a marathon there is no way to express (at least for me) what a boost it is to see a friend in those last few miles. I was feeling like I was going to break, but I saw Melissa, and it totally recharged my will. Melissa drove in from Westchester, cheered for us, then helped Alison get home after her run -- above and beyond the call of duty. Melissa is pretty awesome.

4:13:51

MARATHON 11/04/07

THE ELEVATOR STORY
So, I prepared all week for the marathon by getting my clothes, socks, shoes, body glide, bandana, throw away clothes all in place so I wouldn't be running around Sunday morning getting it all together. The alarm went off at 5:30a.m., I took a shower, got myself dressed, made my peanut butter and banana sandwich, and was out the door by 5:58, ready to meet Alison and Barnett at the Holiday Inn across the street to catch a cab to the ferry. I get in the elevator, hit the button to "1", do a little jig, and the elevator stops at the third floor. I'm thinking, "Who is up this early? Probably someone walking their dog." I wait a few seconds, but the door doesn't open. And doesn't open. And continues not to open for even longer. My heart starts racing, panic takes over. "OhmyGodohmyGodthiscan'tbehappeningthiscan'tbehappening." And, yes, I'm saying this out loud. I look around frantically, hitting every button on the panel -- nothing lights up, no sound, the elevator has died. I hit the alarm button, which does little other than make a very loud, shrill ringing sound that I'm worried is going to wake the people on the third floor. Yes, I was actually worried about waking the building; I'm nothing if not sensitive to the sleep needs of others. I hit the "Call" button, which dials down to Shaun, the doorman. He answers and I explain that I am stuck in the elevator. He says he'll call the elevator repair company. I hang up, then immediately call again: "Tell them it's an emergency! I'm running the marathon!" He hangs up, then calls me a minute later to tell me the elevator guy is on the way. I ask how long it will take because my friends are waiting, I don't have a cell phone to call them, and, ha ha, I know I said this already, but I'm running the marathon today. He says he'll call me back. When he does he tells me the elevator guy will be 20 - 25 minutes. I look at my watch; it's 6:10. I wonder how long it will take for Alison and Barnett to come looking for me. I call downstairs again and ask Shaun if he'll go across the street and tell my friends where I am. He says he will, but I don't think he did because he called back too fast to tell me he didn't see them -- then, Shaun says "Oh, wait, I think these are your friends." Next thing I hear is Alison's voice on the other end, very comforting. I tell her she and Barnett can leave me: "Save yourselves!" She says they won't leave me, there's plenty of time, the last ferry leaves at 8:00, she and Barnett will leave by 7:30 if I'm not out by then. I'm thinking "This cannot be how I miss the marathon. Really? This is happening today? But, I planned for everything that could possibly go wrong." And, that's when I learned a lesson I'll probably keep learning: we have no control over anything, really. We can plan all we want to, but, no matter what, eventually we're going to get stuck in an elevator. Anyway, Alison stayed on the phone with me until, 25 minutes later, the elevator guy arrives. Seconds later I hear activity right outside the elevator door and, suddenly, the door starts to open. I jump out, thank the elevator guy whose name I can't remember now, but I am eternally grateful to him for getting there in time instead of taking his time on a very early Sunday morning, race down the stairs, hug Barnett and Alison, and we grab a cab which seemed to be waiting for us right in front of the Holiday Inn.
The End.

ONCE AT THE START
I'll skip the ferry and shuttle bus travel to the start except to say it was crowded, long, and bothersome. We got to the tree where we were to meet Ciara, Amanda, and Andy, by about 9:00, but they weren't there. An hour and ten minutes later, while waiting to start on the bridge, I saw a little star tattoo on the neck of a tall woman. I turned my head to get a look at the woman's face and low and behold it was Ciara! We reunited loudly, probably bugging the people around us. We ran together for the first mile, then we got separated by the crowd.

BROOKLYN / MILE 8
Almost first thing over the Verrazano we see Colin in a fetching hat holding a cup of something warm looking. We wave and smile. It's early so smiles are coming easy. As we go up 4th Ave. I keep a look out for familiar faces, but don't see many until around mile 8 where Steve Schine and Matt Stinton are giving out high fives.
I think we caught up to Ciara and Co. around mile 9 (not Amanda and Andy who I never saw) once again. This time we stuck together for another few miles. By the Pulaski Bridge our group of five was spreading out with Barnett in front, Ciara and I in the middle, Alison right behind, and Ciara's friends suddenly just gone. I have no idea when they disappeared.

QUEENSBORO BRIDGE
Right after the Pulaski I knew Karl and Laural would be waiting to take my shirt, and, yes, they were there. It was great to see them as I hadn't seen them since August. I planted sweaty kisses on their cheeks, gave them my shirt, and took off. Barnett was still ahead, Ciara and I still together, and I no longer could see Alison behind me. Next would be Jody and Uma. I saw them and all I said was "I lost Alison!" and ran off. Later on the Queensboro Bridge I thought "Well, that was rude of me."
The Queensboro Bridge is hard. I don't know why exactly. It's not as steep as the Verrazano, but it's dark and kinda long, and anticipating the entrance into Manhattan on 1st Ave is exciting, but also causes impatience. Ciara and I didn't talk much, both of us concentrating on different goals: she, breathing; me, running.

1ST AVENUE
Finally, Manhattan! Kirk, Mary Lou, Bob, and my dad, Steve, would be here, somewhere in the 60's. I pulled to the left and scanned the crowd. Soon enough I saw them. I couldn't speak, I don't know why, so I gave a few poses and a smile and kept going. At this point my right leg was hurting at the thigh, knee, and especially my ankle. I tried to think of other things, like my mom, Kirk, Kiersten, brunch, catching up with the 4:15 pacer, if I would make my goal time.

BRONX
By mile 18 Ciara and I separated, a choice I was debating because I knew I'd really be on my own and, though I'd been preparing for this circumstance during training, I wondered if I could run the last eight miles by myself.
Entering the Bronx was cool, though. There isn't the crowd you see in Brooklyn and Manhattan, but they're fiesty and energetic, and there is good music.

BACK IN MANHATTAN --THE HOME STRETCH
Mile 22 I'm really struggling. My ankle is killing me as is my knee and I just want to walk. I stop this thought by looking at the crowd. No one is cheering my name because I lost my fabric name tag at mile five (lesson for next year -- attach fabric name tag with pins). However, I must've been close to another Erica because I hear her / my name yelled every now and then. I see Nicole with a friend I don't recognize, but he's smiling so I make an effort, tell Nicole Alison is behind me, and keep going.

MILES 24 THRU 26.2
This is the part where every step takes on new meaning. Some steps are slower than others. Some hurt more than the ones before. I can feel my posture change and I try to realign, stand up straight, and dig in for the last two miles. I'm convinced I can take it anymore, so I try to say things to myself like "hey, you're really strong, you're out here, you're going to make it", but all these thoughts do nothing but annoy me, so I clear my mind and think about nothing but connecting my foot to the ground. I push the pain away at mile 25 and pick up the pace. It's almost over. I'm on Central Park South and I can't even see the crowd anymore, it's just me and the end. Finally, I turn the corner and re-enter Central Park. Tears well up and I cry; just as soon as it starts it stops, though, and I see the finish line. Running a little faster I cross. As soon as my foot hit the mat I stop and walk, look down at my watch: 4:14:21.
I collect my metal and the heat wrapper thingy, have my picture taken, then walk with the crowd. Someone says "good race." I nod. Sara Kmack is a little ways ahead -- I see her curly hair. I am so happy to see a friend.

AFTERMATH
After wrangling me at 72nd Street, Kirk and the gang get me home (we walked). Later we go to the party Kirk's parents have planned, which was lots of fun. I don't get to talk to Alison about her race, but we promise to talk later.
At home I pass out by 10:00, but my sleep is interrupted periodically by the pain in my leg.
In the morning I check my official time and it's better than I thought: 4:13:51, 34 minutes faster than last year! I've made my goal, which was between 4:00 - 4:15 and I can't believe it! And, other than my ankle and knee, I feel really good. Stairs aren't fun. Other than that I feel like I can start running again by Saturday.

Thanks to everyone who came out to support us, and thanks to those who came out who I didn't see. Thanks to Ciara, Barnett, Amanda, Andy, especially Alison and especially Kirk who doesn't run, but supports my addiction with enthusiasm.

Until next season run strong, run proud, think big.

Mantra

What do you say to yourself when the race gets tough?


Ciara:
The faster you finish, the faster you finish.


Barnett:
Come on motherfucker.
That's right bitch.
You not gonna take me.
You not gonna beat me.
I am about to kill you.
Fuck you. Fuck you.
Come on motherfucker.
Lets do this bitch.


Marne:
Around mile 25 last year, when I wanted to stop, some guy who had already finished the race was walking out of the park and saw me struggling. He called out “Stay strong Marne, stay strong”. I spent the last mile repeating that phrase to myself.


Alison:
You can do this. You are a single girl living in New York City.
Compared to that stuff (feel free to drop in whatever latest 'are you
kidding me' story)... THIS STUFF is cake! And then I like to picture
whatever latest loser who doesn't appreciate how fabulous I am on the
sidelines with his jaw dropping and regretful because I look fantastic
(no matter if I am sweaty or whatever) and full of power and
determination. And me blowing by him with a big "see ya I'm on to
better things in my life -- oh by the way I'm in the middle of running XX miles this morning, what did you do today?"
I also like to think... You can do this. "You've done harder things
than this before." I picture my decision to move to New York City and
how amazing and beautiful this city is. I focus on what I'm running
past (the trees, lampposts, whatever) and really SEE IT and it's
beauty. And thinking damn I am one lucky person! Moving here with
only a backpack and a couple of distant contacts and look at how full
and amazing my life has become with friends and experiences. Thinking
how happy I am to be living life to its fullest and that not many
people can really say that. Wow this run is so cool, not everyone
gets to run past this and see this. Then the moment of needing some
help while running is over and I feel really good for the next couple
of miles.
If on a hill -- Just make it to the top and the rest is easy.


Erica:
Damn, this is hard, but I'm not stopping. Not stopping, not stopping, not stopping. Never stop.


I like what I saw on a couple of signs this year: Pain is temporary, Pride is forever.

Easy 18

I'm not in the mood to blog, so I'll sum up the last few runs quickly. Last week, 18 mile race -- the marathon tune up -- ran it in under three hours (woo hoo!). I credit Ciara, Alison, and new running partner Barnett with the great run as, again, all the chat kept me distracted. It was over before I could even think about what I was doing, although around mile 15 I was fighting to stay in it. I got over it by mile 16 after half a GU and some Gatorade.

Yesterday, 6 mile run with Alison, I fell and got a nice gash on the palm of my hand as well as some random cuts and scrapes. No big deal. Really, the missing toe nails on my right foot are much more interesting to talk about and look at.

Grete's Gallop half marathon tomorrow with Ciara, Marne, and Barnett. Alison out of town as well as Andy and Amanda.

31 days until the marathon. Run safe, people.

Did I Do That?

Last Friday I was at the church without my best training mate -- you know her as Alison -- and decided to go ahead with the full loop, and I decided, just for fun, to see how fast I could finish. So, I set the Timex and took off, full speed, me and the iPod with the brand spanking new running mix. (praise Jesus, amen.) It starts with (don't laugh) Mexican Radio, which is a surprisingly good song to run to, especially early in the morning when the core isn't quite motivated to do the things it needs to do. Before Cat Hill we get a little Tenderness. That's right, I like the 80's, and so do you even if you don't want to admit it. You're screaming for General Public right now, I know you are. Anyway, I'm trudging up Cat Hill when my BF Justin Timberlake and his SexyBack come on. I think the next songs are When You Were Young, We Used to be Friends, 1234 (slow, but sweet), Lovestoned (yep, more JT), Lose Control, Shut Up And Drive ... after that I can't remember because by then I was making my way up the incline that never, ever stops, and feeling frustrated because a lesser runner passed me. Now, I know it's not nice to talk bad about people in church, but this runner had really bad form, and I did not like what she was wearing at all. Yet, she and her unnaturally long stride were ahead of me. I attempted to pick up the pace, but that incline was getting the better of me, so I stopped focusing on Long Stride and started focusing on not walking. Once up the hill (hooray for the downhill) I decided to try to catch up with Long Stride again, but she was pretty far ahead. Finally, she caught the light at the 72nd Street transverse, and I caught her just as the light was turning, so I zoomed past (yep, I said "zoomed") and started hauling ass the last 12 block with a "Ha! Take that" attitude. But, my cockiness was stifled when Long Stride silently passed me. "How dare she", I thought, and started running even faster, but, for no apparent reason, I started feeling dizzy. A chill took over my body, and I started seeing spots. I thought I was going to faint, but I didn't stop running. Finally, at the bottom of the park, I gave up on catching Long Stride because, hey, my run was over. I glanced at my watch, fully expecting to see 57 minutes flashing back at me... but, no, the Timex said 52:53. I rubbed my eyes. That couldn't be right, could it? I ran 6 miles under 9 minute miles? Come on! Surely I'd made a mistake.

Well, I went back out on Saturday morning to see if I could do it again. I won't bore you with the details; let me just say that church is crazy crowded on the weekends. I decided to take the loop in the opposite direction, and I also paid more attention to the Timex. Long story short, I got back to the start and, wouldn't you know, 52:47! I am running faster! Timex says so! I felt great the rest of the weekend, even though I skipped the Queens Half Marathon in favor of sleeping in on Sunday. I did do a 13 mile run down to Battery Park and back, but I didn't keep time.

Speed Demon

7:00a.m. (hit the alarm) Maybe I should sleep for another nine minutes.
7:09a.m. Get up, dummy, no one told you to drink two glasses of white wine last night. Justin Timberlake sure is hot.
7:20a.m. Drink water don't forget to drink water, and roll, make sure you roll out the IT bands, and please stretch, stop being so freakin' lazy, I wonder if it's true that Meredith wants to leave the Today show, she and Matt look like they're getting along so well.
7:40a.m. Oh, I am going to be so late for work, shit, iPod not charged, must get other iPod.
7:45a.m. Playlist, need to make new running play list, so sick of Nelly Furtado and Black Eyed Peas.
8:00a.m. When are my wine-heavy legs going to wake up? That girl is fast, maybe I can catch her.... Nope.
8:05a.m. Let's check out what people are wearing at church today. Hmm, I like that tank, doesn't look like a Nike though, I don't like that guy's socks, why don't guys know they should wear short socks instead of scrunching the big ones down, come on it's 2007 the 80's are over, hey, cool group of very professional-looking foreign runners coming right at me, wow, they are cool, very lean, and very fast. I'll run faster. Ugh, legs still not ready. Stupid wine.
8:20a.m. Should I run the big loop? Six miles I need today. Big loop or time, big loop or time? Why is this a debate? What's the point? Is running 30 minutes up and back psychologically less daunting? I've run this loop a billion times, why am I angsting about it now? I know all about the tricky incline that goes for days, I know that after the incline is a satisfying downhill that takes you right into another hill, and I know when I pass 72nd Street the end is going to feel too far away even though it's only twelve blocks down with a water fountain in between. So, why the debate? Just do the full loop, dammit, and be done you silly silly woman. Stop being scared / lazy / whatever and do it!
8:25a.m. "... tail dropper show stopper do my thing mutha fucka..." If you can sing you're not running fast enough.
8:28a.m. I wonder why that guy smiled as he passed, maybe I was taking up too much space probably all over the place, he's fast, but not too fast, I think I can do that pace, little Asian dude in the red I am going to follow you... oh, no, don't go on the bridal path...
8:30a.m. He's back! Asian guy is back! And I am running with him! I am fast, faster than everyone in this park, me and Asian dude. Look, there's a stop light! Not anymore, I just took it, it is a thing of my running past, hey and I am going to pass this girl who is having entirely too much fun swinging her arms around, ha, I will pass her, oh no, Asian dude where are you going? Don't turn left on 72nd, stay with me!
8:33a.m. I can go fast on my own, I can. I slowed down, but now I'm back, and "coming out of my cage and I've been doin' just fine gotta gotta be down because I want it all it started out with a kiss how did it end up like this it was only a kiss it was only a kiss now theyre falling asleep and she's calling a cab while he's having a smoke and she's taking a drag and it's all in my head and my stomache is sick..."
8:38a.m. And the finish is up ahead thank you Killers you've helped me run fast as did the Asian dude, I see the end and I am speeding to it faster and faster... oh, man, why stop light do you tackle me now when I was so close to crossing?
8:43a.m. The green awning, I am going to be so late for work. Lady passing me looks miffed is it at me? Hey, lady, I just ran six miles before 9:00a.m. What have you done today?

Nike Half 2:03:36 (I think)

Wow, I am really behind on blogs, mostly because I went home for a few days and ditched all tasks, including some running. For the five days I was home I think I ran a grand total of 14 miles, which might be a little generous. I did get some swimming in, not that I am a strong swimmer, nor was I doing it for exercise. It's freakin' hot in Florida, and even running in the a.m. is no protection from all things sticky and sweaty, so I jumped in the pool after most runs. I did get some great iPod time in since I ran alone. You're never really alone with the iPod though. My friends Missy Elliot, Justin Timberlake, Gnarls Barkely, Mike Doughty, etc. kept me more than entertained. I rejoiced in the vacant streets of New Tampa by lipsynching along to The Killers, as well as the above mentioned, dreams of rock stardom coursing through my brains. Fantasizing about celebrity is great on a longish run as, I can only speak for myself, I become infused with this crazy energy and the run is more like a dance than feet simply hitting pavement in the same repetitive motion.

Enough about my rock star dreams, though, even at 36, I refuse to give up. Back to the real news, the NIKE HALF, which happened on Sunday, August 5. Okay, issues upfront with this race: there was no guaranteed entry; there wasn't even a "first come first served". It was done by lottery this year and, thankfully, I got in. Alison, on the other hand, did not get in. Fortunately, the lovely Marianna won Alison a place at one of the Nike raffles. Still, the system set up by the NYRR was, in my opinion, completely unfair. My other issue is with NYRR and their communication skills which are seriously flawed. The only people who had guaranteed entry into the Half were those who'd run all the half marathons last year! What? No one knew this! Not that I would have completed that task -- I tried this year and gave up after the crazy 20 degrees half in the park -- but, it would've been nice to know what the options were ahead of time. And, NYRR, you should have a little bit more respect for your members than that. I've been paying dues, paying for races, supporting you for five years now -- the least you could do is tell me about your ridiculous rules well before the fact so I have a chance to decide what I want to do about it. Maybe I won't like the rules, but at least I know about them.

Back to the race. Unlike last year, where it started out humid and overcast, which then turned into torrential rain at mile seven, it was sunny, clear, and warm, with little humidity. Also unlike last year where I had a stomach ache, I felt great. Alison and I took a cab to the start, and through sheer luck, found Ciara about 20 minutes after we got there. We all ran the first seven miles together, which is the loop in Central Park; once out of the park Ciara and I hit the water station, and suddenly Alison was no longer with us. Pushing on and feeling great, I took in 7th Avenue lined with cheering fans and cover bands. I used that energy to journey on at a slightly faster clip. It's not often that I actually feel like going faster; it usually involves some serious convincing of my legs get out of their safety pace, but that day they were totally cooperative and ready to go. By mile nine I could see Ciara struggling a bit with a cramp. I asked if she was okay, and she said she was. I told her I was taking off and we parted; I found out later that she was never too far behind me, maybe four blocks at the most.

Off I went without my women, with three and a half miles left to go I felt like I could run faster. By mile 11 I was ready to be done. By mile 12 I had had so much Gatorade and water I felt like I was carrying a small pool with me. This is something that happens without fail. I feel great throughout a race until close to the end when I get a little cocky because "there are only three miles left, what's three miles?" totally forgetting about the 10 I just ran. So, by the time I crossed the finish line I was done. (Oh, and I forgot to mention that on my training schedule I was to add another 5 miles to make the 18 mile quota for that day.) With that said, I did manage to PR, and even though I did not hit my goal of 2:00, I did knock off two minutes from my time last year. I'll have another chance on September 23, the Queens Half, which I plan to do in 2:00 flat.

After the race, I didn't do the whole five, but I did add another three. We met Andy and Amanda for brunch at Florent, so I ran up to Christopher Street from Battery Park, then hopped on the train one stop, and ran to the restaurant. I got in 16 miles instead of 18. That's okay, I ran faster at the race, so I'll forgive myself the two miles.

Have brunch at Florent.

Rattatouile

Kirk and I saw Rattatouile (check my spelling please) a few weeks ago as I am a big fan of Brad Bird, Pixar, and their animation machine. The Incredibles is definitely on my top ten favorites. Rattatouile, while not up to The Incredibles, was completely cute, fun, and had one of the best flashback scenes I've ever seen. However, there was a part in Rattatouile where a large number of rats invade a kitchen, and I was not the only one in the audience who gasped "Ewwwww!" at the disgusting sight of all those furry creatures on top of stoves, in ovens, and stealing food from the refridgerators. My first apartment in New York had a pretty severe mouse problem. At one point it was so bad that mice would jump out of our kitchen trash can, like something you'd see on Tom & Jerry, one after the other, like they were in a swimming pool and couldn't be happier jumping from the trash to the counter where we kept the microwave, then back down the wall to the little holes they'd constructed while I was sleeping. I went to great lengths to get rid of them, even going so far as setting those dreadful glue traps that, really, are totally inhumane. My only defense is that I was desperate. And disgusted.

When I was a kid I loved rodents; guinea pigs, gerbils, hamsters, mice. I had them all. Now, the sight of any of the above gives me chills. I hate their sharp little paws and their stupid little rodent teeth; I hate they way they scurry. I hate the word "scurry"! Just thinking about them now is causing my face scrunch up. There is a big difference between the animated rat in Rattatouile and the rats in real life. First, Rattatouile could talk, at least to his other rat friends. And, he could cook, so he had some talent. He was pretty charming in an animated rat sort of way. And there's Rattatouile's biggest plus right there -- he's animated!

"What does all of this have to do with running, Erica? I came to this blog to get some training tips, not read about rats." Okay, okay, I will get to the point. This morning, Alison and I were RUNNING, heading uptown on the WSH. Side note, we were doing 4 miles and we decided to pick up the pace -- less talking, faster running. Anyway, as we were going up this incline, a HUGE rat ran right in our path. My right foot was in the air, about to strike the ground, and if it had I would've come right down on the suckers mid-section. Alison got the worst, though. The rat hit her shoe and kept going. Oh, my face is doing that scrunching thing again! I hate rats!

On the flip side, we survived a faster run. No thanks to the rat.