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?
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