Happy Monday, Reader(s)!

 

I am trying a new thing, which is being optimistic.  For example, on Friday, instead of going around saying "I have to run eighteen miles tomorrow morning," I said, "I get to run eighteen miles tomorrow morning."  Because, really, it is a privilege.  Lots of people aren't able to run at all, and lots of others don't have a whole Saturday morning to devote to something unnecessary and ultimately self-indulgent like this because they have to work, or take care of children, or they can't afford endless trips to Jackrabbit (um, yes, perhaps running expenditures is one part of the budget I could pare back on?).  So, really, I am lucky to have the physical ability, time, and resources to do this.

 

I have also decided to discard any expectations for myself for this marathon.  I am not a practiced marathoner; I have run this distance only once before, and that was four years ago, in a different city, under different circumstances.  My only goals for myself for this race are to enjoy this once in a lifetime experience as much as I can, and - if possible - to run strong throughout.  Having a time goal - even a really slow, ridiculous-nongoal-for-most-runners time goal - was just stressing me out with the worry that I wouldn't be able to achieve it; I simply am not in the kind of shape I would need to be in to train for any particular pace, and that isn't something that can be changed in the next two months.

 

Saturday's run was eighteen miles.  When I set out in the morning, my legs already hurt - from the seven miles I ran Wednesday?  from the gentle yoga I did Thursday?  in anticipation?  who knows? - but I'm getting used to long runs that start out difficult.  As the run proceeded, I worked to keep my focus on the present rather than the future (or, if possible, off the run entirely).  Every time I started to think about the big hill at the top of the park, or how the previous hill would feel on the next lap, or how many miles I had remaining, I consciously brought my attention back to the ground I was currently running on.  This really helped with the toughest element of a long run, which (at least for me) is the intimidation and fear that sets in as soon as one starts to feel tired but realizes that there are five or ten or fifteen miles still to run.

 

And it actually wasn't bad.  The weather was a bit warm, but as last week, I wasn't too bothered.  I stopped to refill my water bottles every few miles and didn't get too dehydrated.  I didn't push myself to run fast.  About halfway through the run I actually started to feel good (for about two miles, anyway).  I didn't walk at all.  The only really bad part was that every time I stopped to refill my water bottles, my muscles tightened up and made it difficult to resume running.  I didn't start feeling bad until about mile sixteen, and at no point did I feel as bad as at the end of last week's run.  Best of all, although of course I was fatigued, sleepy, and hungry when I got home, at no point did I feel as physically miserable as I have frequently been feeling after long runs.  So this was a big win.

 

... And that's pretty much all I have to say.  I have not been doing much in the way of exploring the city the last couple of weeks because I have not had much in the way of energy.  Instead, I've been running, sleeping, and eating, and that's pretty much it.  For the first time in years I'm getting eight hours of sleep most nights, although it doesn't seem to be nearly enough, and I'm eating an unimaginably large amount of food, of which there is no such thing as enough.  This is to be expected on both counts, of course.

 

I have had a few interesting meals (this would be inevitable, what with the continuous eating).  Most notably, I went to Bryant Park Grill for brunch on Sunday.  The two highlights of this meal were (a) it is outdoors, and the weather was nice, although threatening rain, and (the much bigger highlight) (b) best bread basket ever.  I am not a big bread basket person, because usually it is just dumpy italian bread, but this was all kinds of stuff - cornbread and little scones and mini muffins and lemon pound cake.  It was exceptionally awesome.  Also, I had a nice omelet with very fancy mushrooms and a very small amount of cheese that was supposed to be cheddar but seemed more like provolone.  And now thinking about this meal has made me hungry again.   

 

in which my long runs cross over into insane (>15 miles) territory

Well, there are certainly worse things to come back to, after a fun but highly exertive two-week vacation, than a two-day week followed by a three-day weekend.

War Horse, which I was complaining Thursday about having to go see, was incredible.  I didn't think I'd like it because I'm not particularly interested in horses or military history, but it was a sufficiently good play to transcend its subject matter.  The stars of the play were really the horses, which were - this is going to sound weird, but it's the best way to describe them - puppets.  Or maybe you'd say actors/dancers (generally pairs) in horse costumes?  Anyway, their movements were amazingly realistic, to the point that I flinched when one of them was hit with a whip, because the horse - the inanimate paper puppet - was being hurt.  Also, the production was quite good - the acting, music, and lighting made a so-so story (simultaneously dry and melodramatic) really affecting.  I found myself quite caught up in the plot, despite myself.

Friday I took a rest day.  I had planned to practice yoga or lift weights in the evening, but I felt sick all day and by the time I got home could not imagine lifting myself off my couch.  I had mentally postponed my long run from its usual Saturday-morning slot because of how bad I felt, and consequently didn't do any of my usual preparations (i.e. eating lots of carbs and salt and drinking extra water); in fact, I felt so poorly that I didn't eat much dinner at all.  I told myself that I'd sleep late Saturday, rest all day, and hopefully feel better by Sunday.

Instead, I woke up at 5:50 a.m., legs raring to run.  I tried to go back to sleep, but it was no use; my body had decided it was time for a long run and all the sensible arguments of my mind were useless.  I figured, well, if I wasn't going to sleep, I might as well give it a shot.  I did get a later start than usual because I had to do things like assemble my belt (which I usually do the night before) and eat a bit extra (I'd woken up quite hungry, and you don't want to start a long run being hungry), but I was in Central Park starting my 16-miler around 7:30.

I felt bad.  My legs were tight and sore, apparently still from the slow five miles I did on Thursday.  It was cool when I first went outside, but the sun was already fairly high and in the park it was plenty warm.  The first three miles were a struggle, but then - as usually happens - it got a little better.  My legs loosened up a bit, and I stopped worrying so much about how bad I felt and what it might mean for later in the run.  I didn't feel significantly worse at mile ten than I had at mile one, and although the last two miles of the run were tough - I ran very, very slowly and had to walk briefly - I finished much stronger than my last Central Park run, the 14-miler I did a month ago, during which the last four - despite being on the bottom loop of the park rather than the up-and-down west descent - were an even more pronounced struggle.

I feel okay about this run.  Not great - the marathon is ten miles longer, and there's no way I could have run another ten, or possibly even two, miles.  But the marathon isn't for another two months.  And the marathon will have better weather (the heat didn't bother me a lot compared to some previous runs, but I'm sure it slowed me down and dehydrated me) and better facilities (I ran out of water for a couple miles, maybe 11-13, when the water fountain at a planned stop wasn't working; I'm guessing being thirsty this late in the run didn't help, especially because I'd just taken my gu and had very little to wash it down with; also, I could have done with a portapotty in the last third of the run), and I'll be more prepared the day before.

After the run, I laid about for most of the afternoon.  As seems to be typical, I spent a couple hours feeling more or less horrible before perking up in the late afternoon.  I went to dinner at Kefi, the very popular UWS Greek restaurant, which was good as always (although I seem to always get pasta there) and then took a very long walk (recovery, right?) before stopping off at 16 Handles for dessert (fuel, obviously).

Today I have done, basically, nothing.  I spent some time planning What I Could Do Today - go to a museum?  take in an independent film? - before realizing that I did not want to do anything.  I just had a vacation in which I did lots of stuff, so during this long weekend I just want to do ... nothing.  So I've been lying around on my couch, catching up on blogs and watching old Star Trek episodes and reading the New York Times.  I am educating myself about the culture, right?

yes, this is going to be a marathon-training blog for a while

So this morning's run was not awesome, which was not really a big surprise.  It would be nice if taking 2.5 weeks away from running resulted in feeling fresh and fast, but it rarely does - especially when instead I spend that time gallivanting around a foreign country on foot, bus, and bike and not eating balanced meals or sleeping enough.

 

I ran five miles on the treadmill.  It took me forever, partly because I was running very very slowly and partly because I had to take breaks.  (Treadmill runs have been uniformly unpleasant ever since my gym switched out the treadmills; the ones they have now, I swear, absorb half the energy from your leggs every time you step on them.)  Then I stretched.  I did not do any strength training, on the grounds that it was getting late and I would do it tomorrow (sadly, I cannot do that or anything else productive tonight, as I very stupidly made plans to go see War Horse, which was highly recommended but which I don't actually want to see... fortunately tomorrow is Friday, so maybe I can get some stuff done then or over the three-day weekend, if I can get out of my ill-conceived semi-commitment to go to the beach with my family).

 

So.  At least I did the five miles, right?  It would have been nice to do it fast, but at least I did it.  Now that it's getting cooler, at least in the morning, maybe I should consider doing some of these workouts outdoors, especially if I'm not actually going to lift any weights - but then what's the point of my gym membership?

 

The way I felt today - tired, leaden, but not actually sore anywhere - was typical of how I've felt through much of the training season.  I think the issue here may be inadequate sleep/rest and perhaps improper nutrition.  I'm lucky enough not to have serious stomach issues, so I don't need to avoid dairy or meat or anything (lots of runners do), but I should definitely focus on good-quality fuel and getting enough sleep, if such a thing is possible.  Again, the three-day weekend should help with this.