I Earned a Medal! Sorta

Half-marathon complete.

When I crossed the finish line they gave me half a medal.  No joke.  Except it was funny.  Sorta.

My comedian appreciated the thought and the execution, but the athlete in me was pissed off.  I ran (well, jogged, but still...) 13miles!  In 2.5 hours!  That's an accomplishment.  But, it's not a marathon.  It's half a marathon so you get half a medal.  See?  Again, I'm torn between laughter and tears.  What did the 10k folks get?  In context, yes, it was a half-marathon.  But out of context, it's 13 fucking miles!  If you are bothering with medals, then give me a full medal rewarding the completion of my personal goal, not some snide reminder I didn't run another 13miles.  That's weird, right?

Anyway, it's over, it's done and I couldn't be happier about that.  I might run a half-marathon again, but not any time soon.  It was grueling.  I did a decent job pacing myself and, despite my lack of training, only had to walk for a short distance between miles 11 and 12 because of some muscle spasming.  I really, really wanted to say I jogged the entire thing, but I also didn't want to cross the finish line in an ambulance.  Speaking of which....

Around mile 8.5, close to the turnaround point, I saw a guy laid out on the side of the road with a small group of runners around him.  "Poor guy," I thought, "got a cramp or maybe fainted."  It was a reminder to keep carefully pacing myself, but nothing alarming.  However, since he was close to the turnaround, I ran by him again a short time later and this time closer.  I could see he was completely out of it and I heard an ambulance.  Then I realized someone was doing chest compressions on him.  That rattled me.  You don't do chest compressions on someone whose heart is beating.  So surreal.  It was one of the few beautiful mornings we've had this year and numerous spectators lined the course cheering their friends and family on.  A small, but enthusiastic (loud) group was only about 10yards up the road from the downed man.  I'm sure they had no idea.  Of course, I kept thinking of his family waiting for him at the finish.  And waiting.  And waiting.  And waiting.  Sickening.

However, I'm assuming he made it because I paid close attention to the news the next two days and didn't hear anything.  Also, at the finish, I overheard a runner telling someone about a competitor who had a seizure and I'm thinking that was probably the man I saw.  Seizures are scary, but most of the time people make a full recovery.  I am praying that's what happened.



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Are We Having Fun Yet?

No.

I ran 10 miles yesterday.  It was a beautiful day, perfect running weather, but it still sucked.  Really, wasn't pleasurable in the least.  I earned one brief runner's high, but it wasn't intense or long-lasting enough to make the other 9.7 miles worth it.  Maybe it has to do with how accelerated my training regime has been, I know I'm forcing it, or maybe 10k is my optimum distance, but I'm still regretting have signed up for this thing.  Just really want it to be over at this point.  And my times haven't been anything to brag about either.

You know what got me through it?  Have you seen 127 Hours yet?  I have.  If you live in a cave or Egypt then the following my be a spoiler for you so considered yourself warned.

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The dude cuts his arm off.  With a small multipurpose tool.  Using his non-dominant hand.  After 5 days stuck in a ravine with almost no food or water.  And THEN he hikes out of the canyon, even rappelling at points.  And THEN he climbs on to a rescue chopper of his own volition.  At least that's what happens in the movie.  I haven't read his book, a true story, but I hear the movie is faithful.

So whenever I started feeling sorry for myself while running I would repeat over and over in my head, "dude cut his arm off, dude cut his arm off, dude cut his arm off and then hiked out of a canyon."  It wasn't necessarily an empowering mantra, but it would shame me into not stopping..  I mean, the dude cut his arm off.  His own arm.  I think I can suck it up and run a few miles.

I did see one interesting thing during my 90minutes of running (told you my times suck); a man scolding a screaming parrot.  He was walking along a popular local path with the parrot sitting on his hand and it was screaming obnoxiously and he was yelling back at it, "no!  No!  You don't do that!  Stop that!"  Had it been later in my run, I may have thought "hallucination," but I was only 3 miles in and quite lucid.  Plus, I don't know if a hallucination would have been that bizarre.

Anyway, back on topic, for better or worse it will be all over by 10:30ish PST, Sunday May 1st.



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WTF Did I Sign Up For?

Holy hell, 13 miles is fa... as in "fa, a long, long way to run."

I was cocky after completing that 10k in September.  What's another 7 miles, I thought?  I've already run half of that, how hard can it be?

Turns out, pretty fucking hard.

Damn you, endorphins!  You got me into this mess.

I finally got around to mapping out (not running, driving) 13 miles the other day and I wanted to cry when the odometer hit 6.5 and I realized how far away from my house I was.  When it finally clicked over to 13 at the top of my street, I about had a panic attack.  And I've only got 14 days more to train since I'm not going to run the two days before.  On Monday I ran just over 7.5 miles.  Today I did 10 miles on the elliptical.  I'd like to run the entire distance at least twice before my race (and, yes, I'm already registered so if I back out now that's $65 down the drain), but that's hard to imagine right now.

Wish me luck.


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What Happened to Dolly?

I published, I thought, a post about why I love Dolly Parton.  Where oh where did it go?  Did anyone see it?  It was long.  I'm pissed.



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I Am Prefect

Finish every day and be done with it. You have done what you could. 

Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

I vividly remember a time in my high school theater class when we were doing one of those dramatic exercises where you pretend to be crazy things like popping corn or sizzling bacon.  I'd been active in drama for years before this class and had done this exercise dozens of times and always been uncomfortable with it.  It's hard to look cool (as if I ever looked cool) while blooming like a flower under a ray of sunshine.  However, on this particular occasion I happened to look around at the other kids and realized the only ones who actually looked uncool were the ones trying not to by refusing to participate or self-consciously half-assing it like myself.  The kids who just went for it looked ridiculous in all the right ways and were having a blast doing it.  At that moment I realized the coolest thing to do is not give a flying eff what anyone else thinks and I flopped to the ground and sizzled my little heart out.  Theater got a lot more fun after that.

Recently, I realized I was once again trying to look cool and putting a lot of pressure on myself to do something perfectly.  Well, guess what?  I did it and it wasn't perfect.  Surprise, surprise.  And you know what?  I lived.  And not only that, but the feedback I received was positive not only in spite of my imperfections, but because of my imperfections.  Turns out coming across as less than perfect makes you relatable and likeable.    

Next time you are pressuring yourself to be perfect remember how well that turned out for Nina in Black Swan.  Then take a deep breath and lighten up.

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Me Write Like Confucius

Goals worth pursuing are hard work.  At times it will feel as though your effort produces nothing.  Other times success will seemingly fall into your lap.  Don't be fooled.  The windfall happened because you were shaking the tree.




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Margaritas! Midriffs! Danger!

I bring my iPod to the Y so I watch a lot of closed captioned TV.  I recommend it.  The news is often frightening with the volume turned up, but it's HI-larious muted.

First of all, angry people look funny and there are a lot of angry people on CNN.  Secondly, the tickers and headlines--without any hard-hitting news (their words, not mine) to back them up--are knee-slappers.  Take, for instance, the title of this post.  Oh yes, I stole it word for word from a reputable news station (their words, not mine).  It's the first time I've ever knowingly plagiarized (although, I did graduate high school and college with honors so you do the math), but it's just the best damn title ever.  I didn't watch the story, but I think that for the best.

Next time the news is bumming you out turn off the sound, turn on the captions, turn up your iPod, and enjoy the show.



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