Weak in the knees...

only leaving the park at the end of the run, when I passed this guy in the seventies on Fifth Avenue, suspiciously near the Met.  We made eye contact as I passed within two feet of him, looking and smelling my best. It was magical. Long runs (and my life) are now complete.

Nerves

On a scale of 1 to 10, my anxiety suddenly rocketed to a 26.2 today.

Heading out for my very LAST 'long run'. Eight miles-- I just want to feel comfortable and natural running and get some feel good brain chemicals pumping around to calm me down.

Seriously, completely and totally obsessed with the weather

Two things that worry me a little: (1) a health issue popping up (migraine, virus, injury-- take your pick) and (2) rain.

Since everyone keeps saying the hard work is done, and work is certainly hard these days, I feel okay seriously tapering (aka slacking hugely). I've been working too many hours and know that how I feel on race day will be all about feeling healthy and rested, so my focus is on moving when I can (mostly to stay loose and in the moving frame of mind) and getting good sleep. I'll do some nice, easy, fun runs this weekend and sleep as much as I can.

Rain worries me because it increases the chances of serious, painful chafing (which I've avoided so far and would like to stay away from entirely), getting and staying cold, overally sloshy yuckiness, less of the exhuberant atmosphere that I'm counting on to get me through it, and unknown conditions (I've yet to run more than several miles in the rain and am sure there are other rain-related things I should be worried about).

We are now on the 10 day weather forecast. Rain for the few days pre-race, and then 57 and sunny for race day. A little warm, but I'd take it.

I'm much more excited than worried. I think the trick is going to be to keep down the excitement level so that I don't keep myself up at night and can focus on getting everything else in my life done before next weekend, which will enable me to just enjoy the whole experience (read: not use the bberry).

Tracking and cheering on your favorite marathoner

Since I've been getting a lot of questions about how to see the marathon or track me, I thought I'd put these out there already for planning/ getting excited purposes:

Spectator Guide

Track Me! Also, for when you're out there, note that all Team Life Without Lupus runners will be wearing orange singlets.

Zoomable Course Map

As it gets closer to race day and I get more information, I'll update.

Over this too

No embarrassment anymore about parading serious fluffy cockatoo bed headed me around the upper east side every morning. Only a little embarrassment about admitting my go-to ramp-it-up songs are currently Thinking 'Bout Somthin' and Say Hey (I Love You) (alternating on repeat). Not at all embarrassed that I start muttering, singing, and huffing along out loud until something like, say, the Divinyls come on. Whatever, it's New York. Everyone has seen stranger.

Shrinking days and willpower

Kind of dark out. The kind of dark that should signal I'm up early to head to the airport to sit for hours in my sweats, then hit a fabulous far-away destination rather than put on running clothes and actually move by my own power despite the sleep in my eyes, continuous yawning loop and intense urge to procrastinate (er, capture this special moment for friends and family).

Okay, and three, two, one--- off to rally, in to shorts!

Bored to death

As a kid, when I was (often) intimidated by a new challenge, my mom would remind me that we sometimes (and I often) feel that way before conquering and moving on to the next thing. Something along the lines of "scared to death, worked to death, bored to death." And it's all supposed to happen in like twenty minutes, or at least faster than you think.

I've hit bored to death. Beautiful weather, a fun playlist, a new route, and still, my reaction to having to run 14 miles on Saturday was annoyance. Two and a half hours of ugh, not again!

I was supposed to run to the Queensboro Bridge, do four round trips of the bridge and head back to the park. I made it two back-and-forths and left. It was loud and the exhaust and kicked up gravel dust stung my eyes and made me want to close off my ears, eyes, nose and mouth.  As much a I am bored almost to tears running around the park these days, I headed back to lessen the impact of the miles on my joints and perhaps avoid getting the black lung. A big lap on the dirt, and I headed home at 13 miles. I had some tightness in my shin that I really did not want to aggravate.

The good part of all of this is that my only "long" run left is next Saturday and is just 8 miles, which shall be so very sweet. I get bored when work comes without a challenge, which means I've come quite a long way in building up endurance. The next new challenge to excite me, challenge me, and, yes, scare me, is in exactly two weeks, and I will have all the pent up antsyness and craving of the newness of experience to fuel me from from my comfort zone to what I've proven I can do, plus a few miles more.

Love the NYT, it's Marathon Blog, and this

On Post-Marathon Monday, Please, Just Say Congratulations

Another migraine

Woke up at 7 with the best of intentions. Then my head hurt, and after two minutes of maybe I'm imagining it denial, I took some meds and put my head back on the pillow. More drugs and a couple hours later, I pulled myself together and headed to work.

Training for this marathon has been a big learning experience of becoming more comfortable with pushing myself, feeling out my limits, accepting them, taking time outs (hard), and coming right back to push myself again (even harder). Physiologically, this has been less difficult than I thought it would be. I haven't had to really "dig deep" to keep my legs shuffling forward (though I have a feeling that will be triggered from miles 20-26.2), but it has been harder than I thought it would be to stay where I need to be mentally to keep going through all the little bumps in the road, which have surfaced more frequently and less predicatably than I had anticipated-- and, most frustratingly, when I feel like I am doing everything right.

But every time I wake up again at 7 with the best of intentions, I know I've taken another step in the right direction, and I'm so glad I signed up for this.

Back to the morning run

Felt like I was in great cardiovascular shape--- before I even hit the entrance to the park this morning. It's amazing what having my head and chest unclogged (for the first time in two and a half weeks) does for oxygenating the body and filling out the lungs. Expanding ribs and then exhaling without coughing before expelling all the air makes being out there in the cool morning air enjoyable again.

It's firmly fall, and yellow trees poke through around the ponds. The lighting is warm and golden, the running pants have been broken out, and I pull my sleeves over my hands to start out. I'm going to have to buy a sweat-wicking headband in case it ends up being a cool day. I get a dull pain inside my ears from too much cold exposure that I'd rather not deal with for the better part of a day.

I'm practicing running in more and different layers to test for rubbing issues and tying around the waist potential. This weekend, I'll hit up a running store or two to find a wind-breaking outer layer. I'm not so worried about what to wear while running, but I do want to make very sure that I'm not uncomfortably cold for all of the waiting before the gun (er, canons) go off. Would it be insane to wear some of those heat wraps for sore muscles on my back and stomach? Probably, but I might do it anyway...

Flags

Flags are going up to mark the course! 19 days-- I can't wait.

On the tennis team in the ninth grade, we ran laps, sprints and drills until exhaustion. Unhappy that we were starting to drag by the end, my brilliant coach moved our running down the hill from the courts to laps around the soccer field where the boys' soccer team was holding practice. Our pace picked up, our knees lifted higher, and spring stayed in our steps. And we felt energized.

And, um, one more word: OMAC.

I'm imagining 26.2 winding miles of screaming pom-pom-ed New York City should have a similar effect.

20 days!!

ahhhhh!

I can now summon a nervous feeling at a moment's notice when I really think about it.

Massage and heels

Massage, fresh sourdough and pesto pasta, and a good pair of heels.

A recipe to feel better whether or not recovering from a four hour run. A good massage the day after pushing my wall back really helps speed up the phase of limp-shuffling and 'ow'-ing every step or two around the house. Strolling the neighborhood in new running shoes made it even better, and a nightime rolling of the legs took out the last of the intense soreness.

Filling up on bread, pasta and fruit juice feels like refueling, and I'm trying to embrace and enjoy the 'you really should eat more white bread or pasta' while it lasts.

I've oddly found my two inch Cole Haan pumps to be the most comfortable thing to wear for my thirty five little trips around the office during the day. I think it's that I'm not engaging all my leg muscles since my feet are locked in a slightly-less-sharp-than-Barbie-feet angle. I'm sure it's not recommended, but it feels good and I don't care-- actually, better than flats that are less well-padded.  Sneakers to and from work Working Girl style ensure that my feet and legs are used as intended and have some time to stretch out.

I continue to feel a huge relief that I was able to get in the second 20 miler, and am very happy that my recovery has been easier than the last one.

20 again

What a day to leave the park and run down the west side. The winds off the water were high enough that I had to lean to avoid getting pushed over.  For a stretch heading down, the wind was square at my back and my pace increased about 30 seconds per mile. I couldn't hear anything other than the wind, and as I started to sweat, each gust sent chills up and down my arms and legs. I had my credit card with me and was on the lookout for any establishment that might possibly have a windbreaker, vest or long sleeve tshirt in stock. I briefly considered looking for the Intrepid gift shop.

The southernmost point of Manhattan feels entirely devoid of Americans. German, Russian and Japanese tourists clogged the path as they waited for their ferries to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island.  Annoyed and chilled through, I turned around at the 8 point something mile mark instead of continuing a bit up the east side to hit the half way mileage mark.

At the ten mile mark, I broke out the ipod and turned the volume to the highest level so that I could hear something above the wind. I stopped a couple times at the west side path bathrooms for tissues, which helped the breathing quite a bit. I cannot say enough about how impressively clean those public bathrooms are; I really want to thank someone for that. 

It was such a relief to hit 72nd street again and leave the waterfront. The wind dropped to a windy but normal level and I warmed up a bit on the sunny sides of the streets. To get in the full mileage, I ran all the way up and around the top of the park, which meant the last several miles of the run were made up of Harlem Hill. Not easy. I was seriously tired by mile 18.

The run was hard, but that just reinforced to me that I needed to do it. No pain, no gain, they say. Here's to believing the inverse is true. I spent the rest of the day yesterday exhausted, in bed, moaning about my ouchy legs. Breakdown of muscle fibers or something. Now they can spend the next few weeks repairing themselves to emerge stronger.

Still no injuries. Just a bit of clothes rubbing that has left me with a couple red stripes, but it hasn't hurt while running; there's only a little sting in the hot shower.

Now, I am off for a massage to celebrate the end of the very long runs.

Next week is a 14, the following week is an 8, and then the marathon!

Much improved

Still haven't run, but I feel much much better and will go for 20 again tomorrow. I have butterflies in my stomach already, but I think hitting 20 again, and especially after a feel-crappy two week hiatus, will lock in a certain level of I-will-do-this-despite-what-you-throw-at-me,-world! confidence.

Dear Gods of hills, weather and health,
I am not tempting or mocking you.
Utmost respect and love,
Kate

So now that you've very generously thrown money and encouragement my way, I'm asking another favor. Please send me a note/comment/email/gchat with a favorite running/workout song. I'm going to need all the little boosts I can get to pick right back up with twenty (and it will help enhance the playlists for the big day).

"You look sad"

[this morning as I started out on the elliptical, looking, apparently, not so hot]

I was asleep by ten and did a whopping 20 minutes slowly on the elliptical this morning without coughing or dying, so things are looking up. I'm just trying to get as much sleep as I can and take in a ton of fluids.

I have been assured that this shouldn't have such a terrible effect on my built up endurance, so I suppose I'm just losing some supposed-to-have-been-(but really wasn't)-built-up speed.

Adrenaline will help make up for the break in training, I'm sure. I think the more I can focus on enjoying the experience and the less I worry, the better I will do. Here's to self-fulfilling prophesies!

Alive and kickin' (or coughing, sneezing and wheezing)

... but not running.

I got a cold last week that turned into knock-me-on-my-ass and hold me down with a fever kind of sick. I missed work, seeing the outside world and all cardiovascular activity. I ran out of air talking on the phone and tried to avoid the exertion and coughing fit from laughing.

Now would be a great time to chime in with running knowledge about fresh legs and the work already being done, endurance being maintained and muscle memory, and anything that roughly translates into 'you're not losing anything right now, so don't panic.'

Actually, I'm not panicking. I think I can jog tomorrow and the next day, and then I will make myself run another 20 on Saturday. Someone take care of Frankster if I don't make it back.

Thanks again to everyone who has been more active with the contributions than I have been this week on the road. I shall bounce back with the freshest damn legs the marathon has seen.

What I've learned since running 20 miles:

Sidewalks slope a great deal left to right. Walking on the really slanty ones engages the muscles in one leg much more than the other, and it is well within the realm of possibility that I weigh 397 pounds.

Curbs vary greatly in height. You wouldn't believe the size of some of the suckers in my 'hood.

Murphy's law proves itself again. These last couple days have of course been the days I've had to climb on my office desk chair and up a step ladder in my closet for big work/home reorgs.

And then I did it

Wednesday's "low  point" was followed by a couple late nights despite feeling ill, the inevitable post-quarter crash of a sick day on Friday, a migraine, a couple rounds of migraine drugs, and a rocky Saturday morning. I woke up, jolted up as I had promised myself the night before that I would do, walked around the bed, lost my balance in the spinning room, stepped on the edge of the scale and flipped it over and fell into my bookshelf. My failed attempt at making it to the bathroom resulted in another half hour of bed time spent worrying about whether I could get upright or make up this run.

I took a pain reliever with caffeine in my nightstand and put head to pillow. I was supposed to get up to run 7 miles with the group before starting the official Grete's Great Gallop half marathon in Central Park. As the minutes ticked by, I kept recalculating how quickly I'd have to get out the door and run 7 miles to make it to the start and stick to the plan. I finally gave in to the suggestions of resting for half an hour before making any decisions, and I think that saved the day.

I was able to eat a muffin and drink some water, and I got rid of the dizziness as long as I didn't bend over. I dressed, put on my brand new fresh and bouncy white-laced shoes, picked up my race number and timer tag and got in three miles before starting the race. The weather was perfect. I needed my long sleeves for the first several miles of the morning, but my legs were just warm enough to be in shorts. The air was crisp and dewy, the sun shone the whole way through.

I stood waiting in my pen to be released at the start and found myself next to a woman keeping herself warm in a giant black hefty bag. I must have been staring at her because she gave me a dirty look and exclaimed that she was cold and asked nobody/herself/god? what the heck else she was supposed to do about it. It's not like she had some kind of grotesque physical attribute that all rules of polite society dictated that I pretend not to notice. It was early, I was having a rough morning and zoning out a bit and my half glazed over eyes caught sight of a little woman in a big shiny bag. So I looked and ended up laughing on the inside at her response, which loosened me up just as my group pushed forward to cross the starting line.

The race was two of the biggest clockwise loops around the park, plus a little to bring the total to 13.1. Just at the bottom of the long hill, a volunteer repeated to all the passersby "Just three more miles to go ... from the next time you see me! I promise you that I will be here for you. I promise you, I promise you." He seemed sincere and I found myself wondering, as I completed the next loop, whether he would really still be there for the slower pokes and hoping that he would. For someone who is not generally over-welcoming or trusting of strangers, in the effort to avoid feeling alone in these big challenging ones, I've found myself embracing random volunteers and runners surprisingly quickly and openly.

The first of the elite men sped by ALREADY. They always look like cheetahs to me, thin and graceful and incredibly fast without looking like it's hard work. It's exhilarating to see them whiz by even though it feels as though we are running entirely different events.

After that hill, I heard my name called out from the side of the road. It was two women from my running group who had just pulled over for a pit stop. I ran with them, chatting, for the next lap. We saw a few elliptical bikes and a runner behind us chimed into the conversation with her take on them as a personal trainer, and then offering us free training advice. Nice but loony tunes enough that after a few more minutes we didn't mind losing her as we headed up another little hill.

I passed park rangers with full on ranger gear conferring overly rangerly things and posting something on the light poles. A few paces ahead, I saw that those somethings were warnings about park animals testing positive for rabies. For the rest of the day, I got nervous each time a squirrel took just a little too long scurrying away at our approaching footsteps.

Then we were back at the bottom of the long hill and my volunteer man was there as promised, hands outstretched, calling for everyone to slap his hands for magic hill energy that would make the ground fly under our feet. After that, every volunteer gave a countdown, Three more miles to go!, Two more-- almost there! Last mile!

By the time they shouted for the last mile, my support person was there to smile, tell me I looked great and jog alongside me a few paces. It was exactly what I needed, exactly when I needed it.

I crossed the finish line (with a half marathon time of 2:31:10) and kept running. The finish line marked 16.1 miles for me, and I had 3.9 to go. They were not fun. I was tired, but mostly just feeling over it. I was bored by the park and had had enough with my mind games and forced positive thinking. I left the park before I should have, which meant that in order to get the mileage in, I had to run up Fifth Avenue ten blocks and then down Park. The step after my GPS watch read 20.00 was a walking step.


Next week is 14, then another 20, and then the taper down to the race. That means I just ran as far as I'll go in training!