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.