Response to An Open Letter for a Fall Marathoner

This a response to An Open Letter for a Fall Marathoner

Dear Marathoner,

It’s been a long road. I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t scared. I am. It wasn’t so long ago that running a 5k was big deal for me. But I’m also excited, thrilled, and grateful to be about to join the ranks of marathoners.

Training was hard. For a while I didn’t really think I would make it, but I listened when you said I just had to follow the plan. It seemed impossible! Me, run so many miles at a time? I thought I’d surely break - some body part would give up - but I thought I’d keep going until that happened.

Through the miles, the heat, the early mornings, the sweat and the exhaustion, you believed in me. You encouraged me to keep going, to continue the slow buildup that would lead me here.

Taking it one day at a time, run per run, I saw my body change. I ran until my racer back top was tattooed in sun onto my skin. Clothes started fitting differently; the waist was loser, while my thighs were straining at the fabric. One rainy day I realized I’d outgrown my rain boots: my calves had gotten too big for them. It was part of the process of getting legs that would take me across a finish line 26.2 miles away from the start.

I can do this. I can run 26.2 miles. I can run through five boroughs. I can run five bridges. I can run New York.

The race is just days away and I’m swinging from elation to panic. Little aches are popping up everywhere and I have to remind myself you told me this was normal. Though I start tearing up when I see the posters, banners, and flags all over the city, part of me just can’t believe this is happening and that I’m about to run a marathon.

I couldn’t have gotten here it without you. Thank you for leading the way. Your advice and your kind words have helped me and now it’s time for me to trust you again. It’s time for me to believe I can do this.

You’ve reminded me I’ve put in the training and I’m ready. Now it’s time to eat, rest, and stay calm in the knowledge that I am ready. I’m going to honor you by doing my best to stay calm in the days and hours leading up to the start line and by running and enjoying my first marathon.

I will run 26.2 miles. I will run through five boroughs. I will run five bridges. I will run the ING New York City Marathon.

Thank you for running with me, thank you for cheering for me.

Yours,

Majo

Knocking 'em out

That's what I've been doing to my non-runner friends - what's left of them. The runner friends tend to survive it better, but just marginally so. Only those who are also training for marathons, or thinking of training for them, can bear the full brunt of it.

It's also the graphics on a popular shirt sold by NYRR and a good reminder that I need to blog about all this if I want my friends to survive the last few weeks left of my marathon training.

Marathon Long Training Run #1

Going to Central Park for a 7am long run seems ridiculous when I could just as well run near here at whatever time I want. Having to deal with the MTA's increased weekend flakiness does not making the run easier. Nor does it help to have to get up even earlier on a Sunday.

Getting to the start line is half the battle. There's the sleepless night of tossing and turning followed by feeling tired in the morning and wondering if it's such a good idea. Can't possibly run without having slept well! For anything under 10k, I don't have this feeling anymore. But I probably should assume I'm not going to sleep on November 6th, and I probably won't get much sleep on November 5th either.

Though I am pretty easy going and I'm calm when dealing with emergencies, I'm the excitable type. By that I mean I let myself get excited by anything and everything I want to do, eat, or see, to the point where I sometimes am unable to sleep or make myself sick. I get so pumped with energy I could give any Christmas day kid a run for his money.

In order to practice trying no to be too crazy on marathon day, I decided it would be good for me to do the NYRR Marathon Long Training runs. It's going well. I'm all psyched for this weekend's run. I'll try my best to get a good night's rest on Saturday, but I won't make any promises for who can sleep with the prospect of an official long run?

What makes this exciting?
I'll get to run with a pack
Though I love running on my own, the running with a pack gives me a thrill and it will feel more like a race

I'll be on a measured course
Since I don't run with any gadgets besides a watch, I never know exactly how far I've run and thus don't know my pace. Though I feel like I've gotten faster, I don't know if this is true and I don't know what my pace should be for the marathon. It's time to start figuring that out.

There's support
Water and gatorade stops! Misting stations! Nathan is annoyed that I'm not bringing him, but I think it's good for him to rest. With fluids provided and a bag check, I'll be fine with what I can carry in my pocket. Having misting stations means this weekend I won't have to deal with the glares of parents for my running through playground sprinklers.

There's more support!
When I signed up I hoped I'd get to meet people, whether they ran at my pace or not. Since then, I've discovered the power of twitter, and now I have plans to meet some twitterfolk before the run. Better yet, it looks like one of them might run at about the same pace as me! We'll see. Either way, it's only Friday and I'm already excited enough that I didn't sleep well last night.

Yup. It's Christmas day and this marathon training is going to be full of them!

Getting Started

Instead of its usual spammy offerings, my mailbox had a real treat for me yesterday. When I got home, NYRR's "Get Started Guide" to the 2010 New York City Marathon was waiting for me.

Maybe it's just that I'm a child of the 20th century, but there's something about print that makes things more real. There's part of me that mistrusts the cloud. Things can go wrong and get accidentally deleted - a sneeze and a click and poof! Files are gone. Tech-heroes can step in and make things right, but without their super tech-savvy powers, when something goes wrong I'm a damsel in distress trapped in a tower guarded by a byte-chomping dragon and a wi-fi blocking moat.

Which is why even though I'm in the NYC marathon and have known I was in since last year when I completed the 9+1 program, part of me didn't quite believe it.

Until yesterday. A blue and orange pamphlet in my mailbox made i t all real. It let me know with goosebumps that all that training was for something concrete: the 2010 New York City Marathon.

The guide includes useful information like a link to the MTA, lists of official hotels, and discounts to Mary Poppins on Broadway: information I don't need. Except for the medical and training sections, it was all irrelevant for New Yorkers. I still read it all front to back.

Getting to see the race week schedule set me off with orange fizzy feelings because getting an official printed guide is not the same as getting the weekly "On Course" emails.

Print made it real. I'm in.

April showers

There are things I do that help me get out the door - that's the hardest part. To run you need to keep going, but you can't do that if you don't start.

Early morning runs leave me floating in a cream puff feeling that misbehaving printers and cranky clients can't touch. Off-leash dogs in the park and the mist rising over the lake make my heart bubble over in unlimited mimosa brunch happiness. Is there anything better than a sunrise?

My pillow.

Sometimes when the alarm goes off at five, the pillow does seem better. Leaving my clothes ready helps, specially if I left myself a treat: my favorite Adidas socks, or my favorite Run as One top. I have many favorites and I make sure I only wear one at a time for training runs so I can always have one available for bargaining with myself.

Ir was past one when I went to bed last night and though I had decided to wear my new marathon cap (waterproof!), I didn't leave everything ready.

After banging the snooze button three times, I decided I was too tired to head out on only four hours of sleep and that it was better to run after work. Yeah. Like I'll be less tired then.

Maybe not, but it might not be raining.

April is the runniest month

April 7th was the lottery for NYC Marathon spots. Though I had my 9+1 guaranteed entry spot, it was fun to follow it and see if any of my friends made it. There was a live webcast of part of the draw, and though NYRR did not realize there would be thousands of people from all over the world and Mary Wittenberg sounded like a sleepy walrus for the first five minutes of it, I still got sympathetic goosebumps for all those who were just finding out they got in.

It was all over by 1pm. Results were posted and those who gained entry got their congratulatory email. Those who didn't, like Ms. Lizz, got to thank NYRR for being "extra generous with that salt shaker" by being told three times that they didn't get a spot. Sorry, Lizz.

April 7th is seven months out. Most marathon training programs for beginners are 5-6 months long, but these programs don't start from the couch. They assume you've been running regularly 3-4 times a week and can do 5M in one go.

The 5M is not a problem, but I've never managed to keep a steady running program so it was time to get my ass off the couch and get myself used to running every other day or so. No excuses and no counting bike rides or broomball games as runs as I did when I was getting ready for the Brooklyn half-marathon last year.

So, instead of waking up early putting one word in front of the other, I've been dragging myself out the door and placing foot in front foot until I could call it running. I'm averaging 15M a week which would have seemed impossible two years ago, but now is not nearly enough.

It's time to increase mileage and do it in a hurry because I'm part of a team that on May 14-15 will be running 184.8 Miles from Woodstock to New York.

And yes. I'm aware that this is not the most efficient way to travel back from Woodstock, but is there anything better than to run with a team called "I'm Woodstalking you Girlfriend"?

No-half, please!

Running two bridges was fun. I did seven miles. My knee held up, but it was giving me not-too subtle hints that I needed to be careful. Eight miles was surprisingly peaceful and my knee didn’t hurt. I thought it would be smooth running from there on to the half.

The following week I ran the New York Road Runner’s Fred Lebow Classic. It was 5m. I don’t know if it was the cold or the maclessness, but I was struggling through everything I was doing that week. It was the coldest, hardest five miles I have ever run.

I knew it wasn’t just the temperature – I’ve run outside when it’s been colder - but that didn’t help. My knee and now my hip too were complaining. Though I managed to drag myself to the finish line, at 13:27 minutes per mile I might as well have walked.

A big part of the problem was fear. I had a busy weekend that included a five mile race and a nine mile run. A friend suggested I run the race then continue for four more. I knew it would be hard: it would require not carrying a bag with me and skipping the bagel.

Ditching the bag meant not having a dry change of clothes to look forward to, but the nine mile stopping point left me right by a subway entrance which made the cold less of an issue. A change in the routine was scary, but I thought I could handle it. The bagel was another matter.

One of the city’s best-kept secrets is the New York Road Runner’s bagels. Sure, everything does taste better after a good run, particularly when it is free, but I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say the bagels they hand out after races are the best. If you want proof, just go stand past a NYRR finish line and watch: you’ll get to see people wearing expensive running gear elbowing each other to get to the free bagels and greedily grabbing as many as four at time. I wouldn't be surprised if many people ran NYRR races only for the bagels.

As I ran my five miles I couldn’t get the bagels out of my mind. My favorite is cinnamon. They make them without raisins. Thinking of skipping it made my heart heavy and my feet along with it. I was dragging in a sorry way – freezing and barely shuffling along.

At around mile four, I decided to put myself out of my misery and give up on the idea of running nine miles. My knee was hurting. It made no sense to continue. I crossed the finish line and grabbed my bagel. I even dropped a couple of tears as I bit into it.

Not one to leave well enough alone, I tried to go for nine miles the following day. My knee and my hip were both worse. I ran about four miles and had to walk home.
I haven’t run since and I’m not running tomorrow’s half-marathon. Though it pains me to skip the bagel, I don’t think I’m strong enough to run a half-marathon right now and I’m not willing to risk my knee and possibly my hip to find out.

Besides, what matters the most to me is not tomorrow’s race, but the one in November. And I'm sure that's going to be the best bagel ever!

For now, rest. But soon, I’ll be running again. The Park Slope Armory opens next week. With an indoor track, treadmills, and machines it has everything I need to supplement my long runs and get ready for the marathon. Best of all, with YMCA charter prices and a co-op discount I have no reason not to join.

Can’t wait!

MMX

Roman numerals make everything cooler. And a year that looks so good in Roman numbers has got to be a good one.

I don’t do New Year’s resolutions. I make plans. I break things down into lists and I start tackling things one by one until they're all done. Whatever I want to accomplish, I try to figure out how to do it and then I do it – step by step.

Sometimes plans get revised. Others get ditched. Sometimes despite best efforts things don’t work out as planned. Sometimes the plague strikes. Life happens.

I had grand plans for 2009. I planned on getting an agent and selling a book. That hasn’t happened yet, but I’m revising my expectations, refining my plan of attack and moving forward.

But I’m not done with that one. In MMX I’ll get an agent.

And I’ll do my best to run the New York City Marathon.

Those are my two big plans for the year. There are also some other smaller ones. There’s even one involving a tiny panda, but I’ll save those as surprises for you.

Happy New Year! Accomplish all you want in MMX.

Dream it. Plan it. Live it.

9 + 1

All I did was ask for Theresa, introduce myself, and say I was there to volunteer. I was at the New York Road Runners headquarters ready to fulfill the last requirement for guaranteed entry for the 2010 ING New York City Marathon. I ran all my races, now I was ready to volunteer.

The goal of qualifying for the marathon had come as a whim. It was something seemingly impossible to strive for. There was not a chance I’d be able to run nine races in one year without my body falling apart, but I thought the striving would be good for me and that was enough. At best, I’d get in better shape and learn how to run.

I was wrong.

At best I found friends and strength that helped me live this year better. I also found a body that wants to run, that keeps getting faster and enjoys the road. And I have found the best post-race brunch company. And bacon tastes even better after a race.

I got goose bumps and tears watching the marathon this year from mile 6, and I can’t even begin to imagine what training for and running the marathon next year will be like. I don’t even know if I can make it, but I know I have to give it a try.

I’m excited about it and because of that I was excited about the volunteering.

Theresa gave me an up and down look. “Daphne!” She called out. “This one’s got a personality. Put her as a greeter.”

And that’s how I got the spend part of the afternoon yesterday smiling at strangers and directing them upstairs to pick up their bibs. My spot was right by the store cash registers so I got to chat with Celeste who celebrated her 75th birthday last week. When I mentioned mine had been the previous day she opened up the drawer of the register and gave me a marathon pen.

It looks like the perfect pen to log my runs, don’t you think?

Little Drawers Everywhere

For my last birthday a friend of mine – same friend whose boyfriend ran the marathon this month – arrived carrying a very large and heavy package. If it had been anyone else I would have worried, but this being Tim, I was pretty sure it would be fine.

I unwrapped it to reveal a tower of drawers made of dark wood, delicately carved, and looked like it had been part of a larger piece of furniture. The style of the piece matched my furniture. When I protested against such an extravagant gift, Tim defended himself by saying that when he had seen this at Housing Works it had my name all over it - and it's true.

In drawers I trust. Drawers keep objects with wayward tendencies from wandering to the dark corners where they tend to hide. Unfortunately, drawers can’t do this by themselves

Yesterday a friend was coming over for brunch and I wanted to go for a 6 mile run before then. I was ready but I could not find the iPod shuffle. It was not in its home drawer. I remembered leaving it on the window ledge by the door last time I used it, but it wasn’t there.

The apartment was a little messy so I started hurriedly putting away stuff, throwing things into drawers to make it easier to spot an errant shuffle, but it wouldn’t come forth. Could I run without music? Not today. Could I run with the nano? I’d have to change into the shirt with the bicep pocket if I were to do that, but it wasn’t cold enough for that shirt. Should I just ditch the run? No. I needed that run: the Turkey Trot was coming up and that was probably my last chance for a run before Thursday. I was running out of time, the apartment was now tidy, my shoes were laced up, and I needed to make a decision.

I took one last look in the drawer where I keep all the going-for-a-run accessories: a $5 bill, a health insurance card cut to fit the pocket of my running tights (yes, I run in tights – more on that at some other point), small tubes of disposable eye drops, a miniature chap stick, and the shuffle.

Drawers can be your friend if you treat them well, but over stuff them and they turn against you hiding what you need when you need it the most.

I had already checked there but it was when I took most things out that I saw the shuffle: resting at the bottom of the drawer, covered with red eye-glass wipe, with only an ear bud sticking out from under the blanket.

Do your drawers ever hide things from you?

6 miles

It turns out Paula did struggle, but she kept it quiet so no one would notice and overtake her. She looked strong at mile 6, leading the tight pack of women at the front of the race.

The previous night's Halloween celebrating almost made me miss the elite runners. When I got to 4th Ave there was already a small crowd waiting for them. I had missed most of the wheelchair racers but the women were still about twenty minutes away.

The closest I had ever gotten to seeing elite runners in action had been during the Brooklyn half-marathon in May. The course was designed so there were lanes marking the different loops in the park before bounding off to Coney Island. For those of us at the back of the pack, it worked out so that the elite runners were starting the second loop right as we were leaving the starting line area and entering first the loop.

Even though they were passing me on their lane on the right and were running much faster than I could ever hope to run, it felt like they were running with me and that if I hurried just a little I'd be able to keep up with them. Not the case.

And not what I'm hoping for either.

Getting to watch them from a greater distance was awe inspiring. But I was cold from standing around clapping, so I went for some coffee and thought I'd come back to watch those with a more similar pace to mine. I wanted to see what they looked like and get a little of the if-they-can-I-can feeling.

By the time I got back to the course a larger crowd had assembled. There were some very loud people cheering from a balcony above me. They were enthusiastically calling out runners' names so I didn't feel as much of a need to cheer at the moment. Many runners seemed to delight in getting called out, others barely acknowledged it.

Some runners seem to hate every minute of the marathon. They run with a very focused look and don't seem to enjoy themselves. Not only do they look like they're in pain, but they look like they want to be in pain. Others seem to be having fun and enjoy the party the street becomes.

As runners heard the names of people from the balcony, many were confused - unsure as to where the calling out was coming from. Many looked up and seemed amused. Others annoyed at the break in their concentration.

I had only been back on 4th Avenue for a couple of minutes when I remembered I had forgotten to ask a friend if his boyfriend, Keith, was running. Then I heard the people above me start calling out "Go, Keith!". A very handsome runner looked up, his face lit up with almost child-like wonder as he looked around trying to figure out where his name was coming from. When he found the balcony he smiled and waved, happy and grateful to be cheered.

It was him! Keith! Dear Keith! So I went crazy calling out his name. He found me, looked happily surprised and came over and gave me a quick sweaty hug before going on his way, still smiling.

And that's the kind of runner I want to be in next year's marathon.

5 miles

Over the summer I started tracking how many miles I biked a week. I was surprised to find out I was biking 60-70 miles a week. As long as it’s not raining when it’s time to head out, I bike to work and back. With 4-5 days a week, once you add up it amounts to that many miles.

In New York City it’s very easy to get distances confused. Neighborhoods that might be a few blocks apart can feel like they’re a continent away, and though Brooklyn is just a hop over the bridge, for some Manhattanites it might as well be New Jersey.

Last night, as I was brushing my teeth, trying to figure out how to fit a run, a trip to Chinatown for costume supplies, and Halloween costume crafting in one day I realized that Canal street is about five miles away.

Five miles is the distance I most often run. Could I do it?

Though the map confirmed it, I kept staring at it wondering how that would work. I understand that if you unfurl the loops I run around the park it gives me the same distance, but the idea of running to the city seemed impossible – at least for me.

I know I can run five miles. I’ve been doing it for almost a year. And yet, every time I lace up my shoes I wonder if I’ll make it. I'm not trying to talk myself into doing something I don’t feel like doing. I'm talking myself into doing something I don’t think I can do.

This morning the sky over Manhattan had ominous looking clouds. Maybe I’d better not try this today. And what would I do without water? I’m used to running in the park where I’m never too far from a water fountain, or help, or home – easy to cut the run short if needed. And I’d be crossing a bridge. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea.

After listening to the whining as I was getting ready, I reminded myself I could always stop and buy water if needed. And if something went wrong, I could always cut it short and take the subway or a cab back. This calmed me down somewhat and I headed out.

When I hit mile 2 at Atlantic Avenue and Flatbush, I was feeling strong. I kept going along Flatbush and soon I could see the bridge – all thoughts of turning back forgotten. The bridge was easier than I thought and it seemed less work than on the bike. By the time I got to Canal and Broadway I could not understand what all the fuss was about. The run seemed too short. I could have used an extra mile or two of that happy peace that fills me as I run.

Tomorrow thousands of runners will be battling their own demons to make it to the finish line in Central Park. Maybe even Paula Radcliffe will be struggling with herself wondering how it will go. I’ll be on 4th Ave in Brooklyn, cheering the runners.

But next year, there’s a spot saved for me among them and I hope to be on the other side of the party.