Day 61: Messy Finish (4M in 1:01:21)

Well, I'm a hot mess right now. It's New Year's Eve and they decided to close the gym in my building at 2pm today, which I didn't realize until 4pm; so I had no choice but to run outside in Central Park. It's freezing and wet out there, so I bundled myself up and covered my face with a layer of Aquaphor for some reason. I was thinking of swimmers crossing the English Channel. I didn't want to get chapped (or bitten by jellyfish)! I tell you - I have no idea what I'm doing. If you are a novice, do not listen to me!

This was my first time in Central Park in a month. I started strong and felt elated as I whizzed past the old Stretching Bridge without needing to stop, and then the Magic Tree. I was surprised to hear the lady on Nike+ tell me my pace was well below a 10 minute mile. Victory! But not for long.

By the time I reached the end of my first mile, I was over-heating and sweating through my three layers: primary layer for wicking, fleece, and then a shell, plus hat and gloves. I unzipped everything that could be unzipped. The sweat still dripped. I was dying. I pulled my hat up and my gloves off... Eventually, I had to fully stop running and take my first two layers off.

I hung my two jackets around my waist but they slid off. I had to stop again. I hung the fleece (purple and very fuzzy) around my neck and put the shell back on and just zipped it to keep it from falling off. The fleece spun around my neck as I went. It was wet from sweat; everything was wet. A blister formed on my left foot. My hat was drenched and I started to feel both hot and cold at the same time, and like a fever (not an artificial fever - a real one!) was coming on. But I kept going.

Mind over body, I kept telling myself. Then I accidentally stomped in a puddle and my right shoe filled with dirty water. It was dark by 4:30pm. The only other times I've been in the Park at night have been at the Boat House for parties or drinks. It was so beautiful and exciting by Bethesda Fountain tonight, with snow on the branches of Willow Path. Still, as I ran, I kept an eye out for Robert Chambers hiding in the bushes, as well as the more likely interruption... piles of horse manure from the carriages. There were lots of people still out and running along the path with me. Workers were setting up for tonight's Emerald Nuts fun run at midnight. There was nothing to really worry about - but still running in the dark, in the Park, felt a little dangerous.

I thought mile four would never come, and when it did, I did not get a burst of energy to push forward. I felt wet, exhausted, stiff and frustrated with my performance. I was already at 50 minutes and was never going to match or beat my previous times. I had to walk a lot. I was coughing and spitting (in a very ladylike way, I assure you). I'd brought water and drank the whole bottle.

In the end, I finished the four miles in 1:01:21 at a pace of 15:19 mph (including the times I'd had to fully stop to adjust my clothes). I'm not sure if I can trust the Nike+ tracking system though because it told me I'd completed four miles when I'd actually run the loop just a few meters short of three times, which would actually be 5.1 miles. So - maybe it isn't calibrating correctly? If I actually ran 5.1 miles in 1:01:21, well then that wouldn't be so damn bad! But, I just don't know...

What I do know is that it's been a challenging first two months. This wasn't a gorgeous end to the year, but it's OK. As long as I have a gorgeous process, I think I can cope with a messy finish. I am glad I am doing this. I still can't believe I'm doing this! I've lost 7 lbs since starting, and feel stronger and healthier. I'm excited to keep challenging myself and see just how far I can go.

2010 is going to be my year. I am going to live it to the fullest and do what I never thought of doing before AND what I always thought I should be doing. I'm going to find out what I'm really made of. (I have a hunch it's pretzel dough.) Meet you on the other side!

Day 60: Cocky on the Mic

I got a little *playful* flack yesterday about my ultra-fantastic day. Lost a pound... Easy run... Good times! It's all peppermint and incense in my world, isn't it? Well, I'd like to quote one of my favorite hip hop lyrics which I think is one of the most sincere lines in modern rap. It's from Nelly's song "Number 1." It starts with, "Now let me ask you man, what does it take to be # 1? 'Cause 2 is not a winner & 3 nobody remembers... I am #1..." and then at the end - he softens, "I'm cocky on the mike but I'm humble in real life." I listen to this one a lot while I'm running.

If I ever seem to be overly competitive, or boasting about a moment of success, I promise you, it's for entertainment value only; I am humble in real life. In fact I have a deep appreciation for my ability to even take running on - that I have a body and a life that allow me to enter into such a realm. I also feel gratitude for the support I'm getting from friends - which I didn't plan on, but makes such a big difference it surprises me. When people say they enjoy reading this, or that my process has made them think about what they want to challenge themselves to do, it's the greatest high I can imagine! Then finally there is the experience of achieving goals - many and frequently. This makes me feel alive again in a life I'd started to feel pretty dead in.

I do understand though about yesterday... People tune in to read a certain kind of story - one of determination in the face of obstacles. When there's no obstacle, and the wind is at my back, maybe my story loses some of its zip? You want "Curb Your Enthusiasm" and I've given you "Gidget." This blog's called "Michelle Hates to Run." I get it - it's supposed to be fiery, irreverent and (oh I do hope) eventually ironic! How dare I switch the tone on you!

Well, relax, because the cynicism is back on tap today! It's Day 60 and I woke up to find I'd not only regained that pound I lost yesterday, but added an additional half. See? A little time passes and a new challenge is but a page away... Patience!

Today is a day of rest so I won't get to test my running mettle again until tomorrow when I'll be going four miles. Oh boy! I can hardly wait! Honestly.

Day 59: Tipping Point?

I'm cautious to say this... but today was different. I woke up a pound lighter and running was easy. It's as if my body was suddenly possessed by some younger, fitter version of myself! Who am I? Have things tipped permanently? Lord, I hope so. I don't ever want to go back to where I was... yesterday.

I ran three miles in 33:10, which netted me a 10:38 mile! Yeah! This is by far my best time ever. I didn't walk at all; I just didn't need to. From the minute I got going, I was comfortable - I could have held a conversation. I didn't get overly red. No huffing. I still have to breathe through my mouth, though; I just can't get enough oxygen through my nose.

I have no idea what affected this change, but I do have a new gadget - and you know I love me my gadgets. I finally caved and bought a Nike+ digital running assistant for my iPod. The thing doesn't do the running for you, but it tracks your mileage and pace, and links back to the Nike website, where it drops your data into bar charts and line graphs. The site also offers coaching for various races, counts calories, counts days of training, and lets you link your data to friends' data so you can compete with them - or keep tabs on their sorry asses and make yourself feel better.

Nike Running is an Obsessive Compulsive's wet dream! I'm not OCD, unfortunately. I wish I were; my apartment would be a lot cleaner. I do, however, love tracking and quantifying. I've also signed up for the site's 28 week Marathon training program, which makes this whole process seem very, very real... I have 74 days until the Half Marathon! OMG. OMG. OMG. And then Marathon Training starts two days later - and ends on November 7, 2010 - race day.

What am I doing? Can I actually do this? I will be so embarrassed if I wimp out. What if my body hits a wall and I just can't go any more? Must stay positive. My #1 priority remains "avoiding injury" and my #2 priority is... well, I guess, just doing it.

Day 58: Moth to Flame

I hit the gym for an hour today to do stretching and strength training. Before I started, I decided it would be OK if I got on the treadmill for five minutes of walking, just to warm my body up; but once I was on there, I found - to my great surprise - that not only did I quickly put the pace up to 4.5 mph, but I was very reluctant to get off... Moth to flame! I only let myself go a half a mile because I do understand that the "day of rest" serves a purpose, and I didn't want to screw that up; but I really wanted to keep going.

Even after half a mile, I wasn't feeling the least bit tired. I could have held a conversation easily. I was completely comfortable. Now, I realize this is only a half a mile we are talking about; but when I think of where I've come from - that at the beginning of all this I couldn't even run for 100 feet comfortably - it makes me proud.

Tomorrow I have a 2-3 mile run to complete and I'm excited to see how it goes... 2-3 miles seems so short now that I've run 4 miles three times!

Day 57: (1+) 4 miles in 56:05

Today the schedule calls for my running four miles. I took 20 minutes to warm up first, walking and jogging a mile until my heart rate was up and my muscles were warm; then I stretched; and then I started the machine over again to begin my four miles of training. I jogged between 4.4-4.8 mph most of the first half, and then 5-5.5 mph the second, with a brief stint at 6 mph at the end. I tracked my resting heart rate before I began (62 bpm), after the warm up (80 bpm), during the first half of my run (146 bpm) and at the most intense parts towards the end (154). I never let myself get huffy - so I'd stay in that artificial fever as long as possible - and I never let myself cool down too much during walk breaks (at 3.5-3.8 mph).

After three miles, a jerky guy came into the gym and asked me if I was watching the TV. I said I was. He repeated the question, forcing me to take my focus off of running, and the TV, and breathing. I repeated my answer, yes, I'm watching - but he came over and took the remote from my treadmill anyway. I pulled my ear bud out and said, "I'm watching this!" as if he hadn't heard me the first two times. He wasn't even dressed for a workout; he was wearing a sweater, T-shirt and shorts! He said he was just going to use the remote to change the channel on the other TV and I had to explain, while running, that there's a separate remote for the other TV and if he hit the button on that remote it would... but it was too late. He'd turned my TV off, and I had inadvertently, in twisting around to address him, also hit the "emergency off" button on my own machine. Argh! I swore out loud and the sweater guy looked scared.

I had to try to remember what my time was when he'd rudely stepped on the scene, reset the clock, reset myself. I was super sweaty and challenged today and the 30 second break gave me just enough time to really consider calling it a day... My eyes were burning. How could I go another mile!? Could I count that warm-up mile towards the four? Would that be cheating? I thought of the 5 mile race I have coming up on Jan 9th, less than 2 weeks away, and decided I'd better carry on or I just wouldn't be ready for that. If I couldn't pull through four miles today, how would I do more - outdoors - just because it was being timed? I did four miles twice last weekend! Was Gordon's schedule ruining me!? Preparation is everything. Practice. Baby steps. Not - giving up. I decided to have faith in the program and go back on.

The last mile turned out to be the easiest. It always is! I ran faster, which I really do love it's just a matter of getting enough oxygen! I let myself strain more. I drank less. I glared out of the corner of my eye at the sweater guy who was watching football, walking on the treadmill at 3.0, blood rushing to his face. I wondered if he felt bad at all. Afterwards I stretched a lot and when I went to the elevator, he actually followed me and said sorry he'd broken my concentration. I forgave him and told him I was training for "something" and so that's why I'd been so intense about it. He nodded but didn't ask what. I had the feeling his wife had told him to get out of the apartment for a while and he'd had no idea where to go, and so he'd gone to the gym! Now here he was letting the ladies down left and right. Poor dude. Working out in a sweater.

Tomorrow is a day off but I plan to do stretching and strength training with my trusty gym rat log to guide me.

Day 56: Ice Storm

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. When there's an ice storm, and the roads are too slick to go running, go skiing! That's what I did today with my 17 year old cousin Teddy despite the absolute worst weather either of us have ever gone out in! Ice, rain, freezing temps - nobody else was dumb enough to hit the slopes on a day like today so the one thing we didn't have to contend with was crowds. Properly layered and armed with my new sizzling hot flip video thingy (thank you Matt) to keep us amused, we had so much fun we didn't even stop for lunch. A former skateboarder, Ted cuts a fine form in the snow even though he's primarily a skier. I don't think you can be 17 and not board; I'm even tempted to try it - though my more burning interest at the moment is to try cross-country skiing. I tarried along at Teddy's pace, jetting ahead now and again to try to capture a hot dog trick or two; but I always seemed to miss it or screw up the record button. I have become my mother! Geeezus! The one thing I didn't miss, however, was Teddy's ability to talk on the phone the entire time he was going downhill. We'd be on sheer drops of ice, wet rain blowing up into our faces, but there was Ted, taking another call, hooking it up with friends back in Brooklyn. He stares down danger with confidence. He rides without a leash - illegal in some states I'd like to point out - and I don't think he wiped out once! Cool as a cucumber. Oh, to be 17. So, I got a bit of a workout in and muddled through what was actually supposed to be a "day off." Gordon wanted me to rest because tomorrow I have a big four mile run... forgive me Gord-o! I couldn't help myself. I hope I haven't sabotaged this whole thing. If I don't make it across that 13.1 mile mark on April 25th, I won't blame you.

Day 55: Country Roads

It's Christmas Day and, as planned, I was up with the roosters and running. I'm not sure exactly how far I went but later I'm going to take the car out and drive my route to find out. I listened to Vivaldi's Violin in A Minor for the first half of the run, and then had to switch out to a more contemporary play list to get through the up-hills on my return. Vivaldi didn't know nothing about fighting the fray... Prodigy, much better for shutting the yard down.

I ran for exactly an hour with walk breaks after the most brutal up-hills. It was alternatively misting and then threatening to snow, and balls of ice formed on my eyelashes - kind of fun to look through - like wearing big white fake eyelashes. I felt very transvestite. I passed quaint homes with wood burning fire smoke coiling out of brick chimneys, run-down shacks with front lawns littered with cars, sheep huddled in corrals, and barns adorned with Christmas wreaths.

Outside of one house, I was nearly attacked by a doberman pincher that liked the idea of chasing me, barking viciously, jaw hanging open, white teeth barred. I stopped in my tracks when I saw it, trying to figure out if you're supposed to stand still in a situation like this (same as with bears?), run, or fight back. I was too tired to run faster than the dog because I was heading up-hill and at the end of my run, so it was either stand still, or fight. Standing still felt like certain demise. I contemplated fighting. I adore dogs; how could I kick one, even one who clearly was fixated on making me its breakfast!

I imagined what my leg would look like if it got caught in the dog's angry choppers... training derailed... big scars detracting from pretty sun dresses in the summer... (Yes, all this went through my head in an instant!) Oh gosh! Bloody pulp! No! I decided to fight back. When the dog was an arm's length away, I took on an aggressive posture and exploded, "No! No! Bad dog! Go home!" and pointed violently at the house it had come from. It looked surprised and insulted! It paused for a second - locking eyes with me - I didn't back down - and then it turned and trotted back to where it had come from. Pepper mace. I'm going to get some.

After running I made a fabulous brunch for six; and now we're all just hanging out, drinking prosecco and doing our thing. There's a goose in the oven, roasting - yet another low-fat dinner to support my training! Oh well... It is the holidays, after all! Cheers, everyone.

Day 54: Fondue

It's Christmas Eve and I'm in the country with extended family. I was supposed to run 2-3 miles today according to the schedule and had built two hours into my day for just this purpose; but then plans got changed, and I had to make a choice - should I go with the flow up here, or put my foot down and insist on getting my personal needs met? Sometimes, it just isn't worth it to assert yourself in a situation like this. I decided I would skip the run, and just find a way to make it happen tomorrow. My weekly mileage requirements won't be compromised if I do that.

I don't mean to imply that my family doesn't care about helping me meet my goals. If I'd made a big deal about it, they probably would have put up with waiting for me. Actually, maybe they wouldn't have. I don't know. Somehow it hasn't sunk in for any of them that I'm really doing this. I mentioned it at Thanksgiving but, to this day, I don't think a single one of them has checked out my blog. Even now I can hear their voices downstairs, through the floorboards, "What's Michelle doing up there?" We talk all the time about every other subject under the sun but, somehow, this is all just too much of a disconnect with what they know about me.

It doesn't matter. I know what I'm doing. This is really a solo mission for me, anyway. I'm the one who has to put the shoes on and move the miles every day. I'm the one who is accountable for the 26.2 miles 10 months from now.

If you aren't going to exercise on a day you were supposed to, it's probably advisable to at least eat modestly... So when it was announced that we were having Swiss fondue for dinner, you can imagine how I felt! Oh no!! But, again, what can you do when you're visiting people? I don't make decisions about the meals here. In fact, the last time I was visiting, as a way of managing the out of control snacking, baking and drinking, (by the way, they're all thin,) I brought the Blue Print Cleanse with me. They're all still laughing about that. I sat there sipping my $50 bottles of designer green juice... while they scarfed down ribs, corn on the cob and cherry pie. (Pretty miserable, admittedly!) Anyway, so tonight I just went with the flow and personally cubed the loaf of white, nutrition-free bread from the grocery store - and then dipped my share of pieces into the creamy, molten fondue. Fondue... no wonder the Swiss never fight! Who needs to fight when you are full of cheese + wine + nutmeg + flour!

Tomorrow is Christmas morning and I'm going to head out for my run first thing when my non-Jewish relatives gather to open their presents. I'll be running outside, which is a bit of a concern since we just had 10" of snow and it's 15 degrees out. I know Santa won't be filling a stocking for me, but I hope he has the decency to bring a little sunshine my way... so I don't freeze my tuchas off!

Day 53: Run Like a Girl

Well, I've done it. I've committed to training for a Half Marathon. Not the one I was going to do in March, which was the NYC Half Marathon sponsored by the NYRR Club, but the More and Fitness Magazine Half Marathon, which will be held in Central Park on Sunday, April 25, and into which only women can enter. The time cap to finish is 3h 30m, versus just 3h for the co-ed Half in March... and the later race date also gives me extra time to train - 18 weeks versus 12.

I kind of like the idea of running with the girls. Fewer distractions! Who needs all those long men's legs passing me on the left and right. I know I'd never be able to catch them so what kind of carrots would they be? Much more fun to focus on overtaking one of my own, "I'll get you with your shiny pony tail!" "Nice shorts, bubble butt!" I know, I know. I'm supposed to be competing with myself but I can't help it. Name-calling motivates me! It's harmless... I'm not going to say anything out loud!

So, now that I have 18 weeks to train, I decided to reevaluate my training schedule. Hal Higdon's program was only for 12 weeks, and I never felt comfortable with his nonchalance. He didn't have me running anything near 13.1 miles before the day of the race... He kept saying the adrenaline on the day would carry me through... I'm the type who likes to over-prepare, so when I saw a different schedule posted on the NYRR site, and it just happened to be designed by a woman (Gordon Backulis) especially for this Half Marathon, well, I decided to switch coaches. Sorry, Hal!

I took the schedule Gordon provided and recreated it in an Excel grid of my own, starting each week on Monday, like normal people do. (Gordon had the weeks starting on Tuesday; I wrote to her about this asking why, but haven't heard back.) Then I added in information I have about my own travel schedule for the next four months, to make sure I could handle the plan; I mapped out where I might be in the world when I needed to complete my longest training runs - Mexico, Sweden, South Beach... they've got treadmills in all those places. No excuses!

Gordon's schedule will have me running up to 30 miles a week before the Marathon, and demands a 13-15 mile run on three occasions before the actual race; so that, by the time the actual race day comes along, 13.1 miles will seem like no big deal. *yeah right* The training schedule instructs one to also complete two proper (shorter) races before the Half, but pretty far along in the training; a 5M and a 10M. I don't know exactly where I'll do those yet.

I feel at peace with my decision to commit to the Women's Half. I still have a tiny kernel of interest in (also) running the NYC Half Marathon in March, but I'm not sure I'll be ready. There's a lottery for that so even if I sign up, I may not get in. Probably better for me to just put my head down and focus on April. I bet the goodie bag at the Women's Half will be lot better, too! And at the Women's Half, I certainly won't be the only one on the course who is running like a girl.

Oh, and I almost forgot to add, I didn't run today! There are a lot of days off on Gordon's schedule and today was one of them. Feels strange not to have run. Putting all my faith in Gordon now... don't fail me, good lady!

Day 52: Artificial Fever

Today was rough. I didn't have any coffee before heading down to the gym and my body was acting extra tired for some reason. Headquarters snapped down at the fray briefly but then got distracted. My pal Robin (who I am now convinced lives at the gym) was there and we got to talking about her bad night's sleep, about how she was tired too, and you know - two downers don't make a right. Part of me longed to put my iPod on and focus, the other part was enjoying the commiseration. When I could, I stared at my shiny new 26.2 necklace and remembered my goal. (I always knew jewelry could solve the world's problems.)

Today's assignment was to run 3 miles. I started out walking a quarter of a mile at 3.5 mph, like I usually do, and then forced myself up to 4.4 mph. My feet were literally dragging behind me on the treadmill. I went about another half a mile, and then reverted to walking, then back up and down like that for the rest of the distance. I was breaking a nice sweat and turning medium roast beef pink, versus my usual rare roast beef pink. The whole thing took me 49:00, which is only slightly longer than it took me to run the Turkey Trot in November, when I was really pushing myself -and huffing and puffing the whole way. So, even though I walked a lot and wouldn't call today's display a triumph, it was fine. I met the requirement. I checked the box.

Another reason I don't feel all that bad about my lackluster spirit today is because of something I read last night before bed. I'm studying the mechanics of what I'm doing. You'd think I'd start with the chapters about how to get stronger, but of course I'm starting with the ones about fat burning. The truth is, when I started this, I had about 40 lbs to lose. Yeah, I'd be completely anorexic if I lost 40 lbs, but I'd like to be anorexic just once in my life and this might be my moment! 25-30 lbs is a lot more realistic and would be healthy. I haven't made weight loss a conscious part of my process though; I just sort of figured it would happen in due course - but it hasn't.

After my first month of training, I'd lost just 3 lbs. I tried not to be disappointed by that because I knew I was gaining muscle, and people kept telling me not to worry, the weight loss would come. Now it's been 7 weeks and while I briefly was down 5 lbs, that seems to waiver a pound or two, in a pattern that's totally uncorrelated to my eating, hydration or any other factor. Such a mystery until now; but here is some insight.

The body doesn't burn fat when it thinks there's an emergency... If you're running away from a hungry lion, it will instead dip into glycogen - the energy stored in the muscles. If however you are just running to get somewhere, it will source from the body's fat stores. So, when I've been training to the point of being a hot mess, huffing and causing my body extreme stress, I've triggered the "hungry lion - run!" response, versus a fat burning response. The key to fat burning is to run like you need to get somewhere... as fast as you can but at a pace where you aren't huffing, and for as long as you possibly can. It's recommended that you endurance run like this for 45 minutes a day, 3-4 days a week, and then do one 90+ minutes endurance run once a week.

The thing you're trying to do with your body during these endurance runs is induce an "artificial fever" in your body. You want to get your body temperature up well above 98.6 degrees, so that the fat literally melts off. Since it's critical that you not trigger the emergency/lion response, these endurance runs should incorporate walking - as much walking as necessary to make sure you never "over heat" and slip out of the fat burning zone. It takes about 15 minutes to warm up to this artificial fever, but once you're there, you can stay indefinitely. (I wonder if that's the secret to the weight loss TV shows, like "The Biggest Loser.")

So today when my body wasn't bouncing with enthusiasm for Marathon training, when I didn't feel like pushing myself to run at 5 mph, I focused instead on making sure I sustained conditions conducive to the great state of artificial fever! I made myself into a fat burning furnace. Kind of an interesting way to look at things, no? Also good for justifying a lame run!

Day 51: Rusty Nuts

I used to belong to Equinox. I liked that they had Q-tips and razors. I liked that it was on my block. When I was sick, I'd lounge about in their eucalyptus scented steam room for hours, gumming up the place with my germs, hoping to leach out whatever ailed me, and then hightail it out of there before anyone could identify me. From time to time, I bought the "I'm Worth It" January pack of 10 training sessions. Eventually though, the "frugalista" in me took charge and ended the frivolous six years of blood letting into Equinox's golden cup.

Now I work out at the tiny, packed gym in my building which is free with my exorbitant monthly rent. Yippee!! The gym of course has treadmills and an elliptical machine, both of which I'm of course now using regularly. There are also bikes and a stepper - so 1985! How do you use one of those without putting a florescent headband and matching leg warmers on? There's a decent collection of newish free weights and clean, new mats for stretching... but the machines, which I've never looked at up close before tonight, are simply horrific! They look like they were probably purchased at auction from some dead grandpa's home gym in Florida. They're decrepit. The nuts and bolts are all rusted over. The rubber hand grips are all thoroughly eroded or missing. The pins on the levers you use to adjust the seat to your size are all threaded and stuck in the "giant man" position. I am 5'1". There is just so much propping up one can do!

I really hope I'm not going to have to rejoin Equinox, though I'm sure they'd be thrilled to have their best paying customer back... The thing is, I'm starting my official Half-Marathon training this week (OK, I'm starting a week early, but I just wanted to get a head start!) and, in addition to days off, we also have days that are fully dedicated to strengthening and stretching. Today was just such a day and I did my best with the 6 machines in my gym, and I stretched a lot, but the equipment seemed kind of limited. I know I don't need to worry about this yet. My building's gym is adequate for the level I'm at now; but I'm projecting forward, as I'm want to do! What will I do when I need more of a challenge?

I spent an hour doing my work. I wrote my reps down like a proper gym rat and made a very sophisticated ranking system (hard, medium and easy) so I'll know how to adjust the weights and reps the next time. I'm pushing 20 lbs on some things, and 70 lbs on others. I don't know if I'm doing what I'm supposed to do but I'm so excited I don't have to this again tomorrow. Tomorrow I get to run again. 3 miles! Gotta squeeze it in before work so... talk to you in a few hours.

And I promise, in the next week, I'm going to talk to you all about something called the "fat blanket" and the "artificial fever." Y'all aren't ready. I'm studying some new books on running and it's fascinating! Something to look forward to... Night!

Golden Jubilee!

Today is my 50th day of training, so I'm calling it my "Golden Jubilee." Technically, a Golden Jubilee refers to the 50th YEAR of something, not the 50th day, but you've gotta celebrate the bird in your hand, right? (If I'm still running at age 88, don't worry, we're gonna party it up again!) For the curious, because I just Googled it myself, the term Jubilee is actually a Biblical reference, called out in Leviticus 25:9 as the Hebrew word, "Yovel," and refers to the sabbatical year after seven cycles of seven years; so, the Jubilee year is the next year, the 50th year.

Interestingly, in the Bible, the Jubilee is a special year for the remission of sins and universal pardon where debts are forgiven, slaves and prisoners freed, and the mercies of G-d would be particularly manifest. No such luck for the prisoners in my yard!!! Headquarters remained firmly installed in the tower today and the fray were kept neatly in line. In fact, I just ran four amazing miles in 52:23, which beats my time yesterday by 6:07!!!!! I am in shock and so happy!

For the first time since I started this big adventure, I can honestly say, I felt comfortable running. I'm not sure if I could have held a conversation, but I didn't feel lightheaded or like my heart was going to explode out of my chest and splatter against the mirror Tarantino-style. I turned my usual beet red, and sweat poured faster than I could rehydrate, but I ...oh gosh why do I feel strangely disloyal to myself writing this ...I had fun. I didn't hate it today. I loved it! I even wore my new Saucony running shoes - the ones which were giving me bloody hell for days - and they were completely fine. NOW, keep in mind... I wasn't even running today. I didn't make it over a pace of 5.8 mph today; so I was just jogging. If I had been running at a pace of 6 mph or higher, I'm sure I would have hated it.

Back to talking about my Golden Jubilee... To celebrate this exciting 50th day, I have a sparkly new bauble to wear around my neck! As if she'd known today would be an important day worth commemorating, my dear childhood friend and great running role model, Cat, surprised me out of the blue last night with a shiny, amazing present! She gave me a 14k gold charm designed by the ultra-chic and fabulous jeweler, Helen Ficalora. The charm is a round medallion engraved with the number "26.2" - which is, of course, the exact mileage of the Marathon! So personal. So supportive. So unexpected. So needed. Oh lordy, momma, you know how to make a girl cry... "Run, baby, run!" you said, and I promise I will. I'm not going to give up. See you at the Finish Line.

Day 49: Headquarters

I just ran 4 miles in 58:30! I need to use my weekends to try to up my distance and so had gone down to the gym with the intention of trying to run 4 miles in an hour, alternating walking and running every half mile. I started on the elliptical to warm up while I waited for a treadmill to be available. It wasn't long; just about 7 minutes. I'd worn my Flash Gordons so I'd have no excuses, brought water, stretched a bit, cued the iPod... hit start and cranked the time up to 60 minutes.

My first half mile on the treadmill was a little scary. Everything hurt and I couldn't comfortably increase my speed much above a 3.5 mph walking pace. The treadmill seemed to want to trip me up. I kept staring at my harried form in the mirror and listening to all my body parts barking ferociously. They had strong words for me today - concerns that they weren't afraid to voice. They seemed to be mobilizing and sending challenges and threats up to "headquarters."

"We are TIRED! You've gotta give us more sleep if you want us to do this kind of crap...And what about breakfast? Can we get something up in here, yo!? Coffee - we've told you this before - coffee is not breakfast. We need muffins! We want muffins!"

[unintelligible mumbling]

"...and eggs! We want eggs!"

[more unintelligible mumbling, then one clear voice over the crowd]

"Ask that bitch for bacon!"

[loud cheers]

"Yeah! We want bacon! Bacon and eggs, with buttered toast... and jam! Lots of Jam. Jam for the people! Jam for all! JAM! JAM! JAM! JAM! JAM! JAAAAAM! JAAAAAAAAAAAM!"

It got louder and louder and louder! This foot hurt. Could we stretch a hip for a second? Knees wanted a rub. Sweat everywhere, dripping down my face - wipe me, wipe me, wipe me! I could barely hear my music over the litany of complaints and now, their damn chanting for jam. It had to stop. I had to put my foot down! I was losing focus. I hadn't even walked a quarter of a mile yet! I was not going to fall off the wagon on day 49!

I reminded myself of General Patton's advice: the mind must control the body. The body will be tired morning, noon and night, he said. I tried to visualize my mind as a separate entity from my body - stronger, wiser, in charge. I put a wooden sign up over my head in my mind that read "Headquarters." Head - quarters. Get it? Next I built a barricade between Headquarters and the fray. The chanting, which had gone from "Jam! Jam! Jam!" now to, "Sauna! Sauna! Sauna!" felt a bit more distant. It was time to switch to running. Headquarters made an announcement over the loudspeaker,

"Good morning all. I acknowledge your concerns. We will be eating and resting later today, I assure you. You deserve what you request. Please know, however, that Headquarters has a strategy in place and you must all - without exception - shut up immediately and do as you are told. We are working towards a goal and I need every single one of you to step up and do your job. Now, on my signal, start running!"

I hit the speed button 13 times until the ground was moving at 4.8 mph and - lo and behold - everyone shut up and ran. It wasn't the easiest run I've ever had because I am actually tired today, and no breakfast - coffee and water probably aren't the best way to start a day of training - but we are a healthy body and we can stand sub par conditions from time to time.

By the end of the run, the fray had completely settled down. They were listening to the music I played over the sound system in the yard. There weren't any fights. I hardly had any trouble. And I finished in under an hour, which had been my arbitrarily projected time.

Headquarters then rewarded the body with a reasonable amount of stretching. You could hear them oohing and ahhing, a little. There was even a bit of kissing up, "More right there please, master... Thank you! You are so good to us! Me next, master!"

Now that the threat of revolution is over, and I've got the fray under control, I can go make breakfast. (Nobody's getting jam, by the way!) I think this analogy of Headquarters and fray works for me. It's almost like my body parts are randy, convicted felons living in a penitentiary yard and I've just got to manage them from my high tower. They're under control for now - not much threat of escape. I probably just need to keep an eye out for tunnels being burrowed secretly at night and distracting visitors who might put dreams of takeover into their mischievous minds! And now, at ease!

Day 48: Skin Deep

In reading all about VO2 Max yesterday, I realized I hadn't tested my resting heart rate in a while; so today, when I headed to the gym, I strapped on my trusty Polar Electro. My resting rate was 72 bpm, which was a little bit high for me. I've usually got a resting heart rate of 68 bpm. Not sure what that was about but I'll keep an eye on it.

Next, I walked to warm up. My heart rate hovered around 86 as I increased my speed, and then shot up to 174 when I first broke into a run. After about 5 minutes of running, my heart rate dropped down to 146 bpm. So, I guess what I'm noticing is that I get used to a new speed, and my heart can slow down and just maybe push harder and more efficiently? I really have no idea. I'll track it a few times and see if I notice a pattern.

Isn't it amazing that as a human being, I might understand certain external physical and social systems in the deepest, most granular way, and yet I am stone dumb about how my own anatomy works? I don't know how the body grows stronger, in a literal sense; and yet here I am committed to this very end goal. I am thinking I'd like to chip at this block academically, and sooner the better. I've recently gotten the names of several good running doctors; one for orthotics, one for injury, and then a fancy one for name-dropping. I will do some research on these, set appointments for January, and then read up on the mechanics of training. My days of living skin deep are over!

I ran 1.4 miles tonight, quite weakly. There was another girl at the gym with me and she was flagging too. I didn't plan my day well around running. I skipped lunch and instead ate three Ricard flavored macaroons, an apple and coffee. Since I am not actually French, and did not accompany said repast with a cigarette, my nutritional needs were not met. So, I just had to eat a really quick dinner before working out tonight, and didn't leave enough time for my food to digest. The whole time I had a ball of salmon and avocado brown rice sushi roll and seaweed salad bouncing up and down in my belly.

Ugh... I look forward to the next two weeks when I will have more time for sleeping, more flexibility to make running a priority, and a chance to study up on my new favorite topic, "the body!"

Finally, a note about my damn new shoes: I tried running in them again tonight but the results were discouraging. My front toes got numb again, and the tops of my feet are burning from rubbing against the inside of the shoe. I can't imagine how I will ever fit into these shoes and train with them! I wish now that I'd kept the box and the receipt! I *heart* my Flash Gordons!

Day 47: "Love's Labour's Lost" (2009)

My sincere apologies to the great William S. Shakespeare. I've adapted a little bit of his prose to suit my situation as I feel myself losing ground with resistance to running. Shakespeare's original words were written in the mid-1590s and then first published in 1598.

"Love's Labour's Lost" (2009)
Adieu, valour!
Rust rapier!
Be still, day job and drum!
For your manager is in love with running and writing; yea, she loveth.
Assist me, some extemporal god of rhyme and road, for I am sure I shall turn sonnet and mile.
Devise, wit; write, pen;
Devise, agility: move, shoe;
...for I am for whole volumes in folio as this story unfolds;
...and miles in motion as the treadmill goes;
...or so I wish it to be that nothing should stop me.
Expand, capillaries!
Limber limbs!
Even now, I arrive, one day at a time, to the Finish Line!

___________________________________________

The following is an update and correction of VO2 Max results as reported yesterday.
___________________________________________

I used an online calculator to measure my VO2 Max score yesterday and have never been quite so excited to find out I ranked "Average" at something! I'd really been expecting the worst; but hallelujah, 46 days of jogging and I'd already netted measurable effects. I celebrated briefly before doubts began to creep in. Was that online test accurate? It had only incorporated the length of time my 1.5 mile run had taken. What about other factors, like my gender, or height or weight?

When I returned home from Philly tonight I went through my new Runner's World book called GETTING STARTED and found a very elaborate mathematical calculation that took into account gender and weight and decided to re-do the results. I anxiously opened the calculator function on my laptop. I had to do the math about four times to be sure, but the news wasn't good. In fact, my VO2 Max is 29.1400292, which, according to the book's accompanying table, placed me in about the 25th percentile for women, on the cusp of Below Average and... WELL BELOW AVERAGE! "If your initial VO2 is below average, don't be disheartened:" the book said, "Running will certainly improve it." I'll say! Nowhere to go but up! All I keep thinking about now is how bad my VO2 must have been when I started all this... I'd known I was in bad shape but I hadn't realized I'd sunk that low.

From time to time, I worry about the possibility that in chasing a laugh, I might employ a touch too much hyperbole. Mild exaggeration is a normal comedic device, and by now I'm sure you expect it to some degree from me, but I also want to make sure that when I give you the cold hard facts about where I'm at in this training process, you can trust that I'm telling you how it really is. So in important moments I will make an effort to let you know that the data points I'm offering are pure.

This is one of those moments and I feel quite vulnerable about it. I might have been proud yesterday of being "Average," but today I'm scared and alarmed that, even after all I've done between November 1st and today, I am still only achieving "Well Below Average" results. No wonder I don't feel like I'm getting enough oxygen when I'm running! I am not. My muscles are starving.

So much work to be done. Dreams of running the Half Marathon on March 21, 2010, seem unrealistic in this moment. I don't want to be a doubter, but I also don't want to set myself up for major disappointment, or injury. I hope very much that over the next few months I can continue to train intensively and will see evidence of improvement through a higher VO2 Max score.

Day 46: VO2 Max

I'm in Philadelphia for two days on business. Just jammed a run in between meetings and dinner. There's a test I've been wanting to take called the VO2 Max test. It helps you (somehow - haven't figured out how yet) determine your baseline fitness level. VO2 Max is a measure of the volume of oxygen a body consumes per minute. What you do is warm up a little bit (in my case, I walked for all of 2 minutes because we only had an hour break!) and then run 1.5 miles as fast as you can, but keep to a pace that's still comfortable. (I'm tempted to write some joke here about running being wholly uncomfortable, but it wasn't tonight. I rather enjoyed it; and I'm still thinking of my miserable experience last night with the new shoes, and so was extra appreciative of my cushy Flash Gordons which practically do the running for you.)

I ran the distance in 17:08, which netted out on one online calculator to a VO2 Max of 31.69066, or "Average." Technically, the Population Average is 32.465. I'm not sure I trust that online calculator though because another said my VO2 Max was 24.030827989607814 when I put my time in. Hmmm... I will have to do further investigating when I return to New York.

There were colleagues in the gym when I got down there and I must say, I felt a glimmer of extra respect for them for having sacrificed their hour as I did (or part of it, in my case) to work on their physical fitness. Again, this is just a whole new world to me. Have people been sneaking off to the gym throughout my life and I just didn't know it?

OK - my hair's a total do-over right now so gotta go and doll up! Love n' Philly Cheesesteaks!

Day 45: New Shoes

Mamma's got a new pair. Since the day I started running, people have been telling me to get a second pair of running shoes; but I'm really good at putting off "recommended procedure" until I personally feel the urge or need to comply. This oft repeated suggestion just stank ever so slightly to me of a marketing racket... I decided to hold off as long as possible and see how it all went. Who knew if running would even pan out and, if it didn't, then I'd be stuck with two very expensive pairs of shopping shoes.

The urge came on its own though, two days ago, on Sunday. I was doing my big two-mile run without stopping and somewhere along the way, I became way too aware of the shoes. I just wanted to smash the heck out of them with my feet. I tried not to obsess about the feeling but it wouldn't go away. It was a strange thing to notice because I actually love my first pair of shoes. They're Saucony, with big toe boxes and narrow ankles - perfect for my feet.

When I first got my Sauconys at the Super Runner's Shop on Columbus, I called them my Flash Gordon shoes because they're, well, a little flashy. Not at all flashy compared to some of the options out there, but I dress almost entirely in black (if you must ask, I am channeling my inner Greek widow); so for me - they were uncomfortably attention-grabbing. When I'd bought them, the sales woman had first directed me to a sleek and sophisticated pair of Brooks running shoes. They were understated, professional looking, and didn't draw any unnecessary attention to my feet - I gushed.

Next I tried on the Flash Gordons with a bit of an eye roll; but I had to admit they were marshmallow heaven... and made the Brooks feel like strap-on crackers. I pouted a little. I expressed my concern that people would be looking at my feet. The clerk had me run in both pairs, and a few other pairs, and we concluded that overall, my running posture was the best in the Saucony, and it didn't suck that they had a lot of spring in their step since I'd been winded by the one-block trials she'd put me through! I needed all the help I could get. The sales clerk also pointed out that when I ran, nobody was going to look at my feet. At the time I'd thought she meant that people were too busy and self-absorbed in New York City to notice me. I realize now, she was probably thinking, "When you barrel down the block, there's a lot more interesting stuff to look at than your feet, lady!" Move out the way!

I later purchased separate green footbeds for my first pair of shoes, the kind professionals use, that come with a guarantee; and of course I added my orthotics. I also let someone do that fancy top lace thing so your foot doesn't slide forward. Now, I was queen of the elaborate butterfly lanyards for six years at sleep away camp, but the secret to this sneaker lace-up trick still totally eludes me! Back, over, under, through - and then Lord help ya if you need to loosen them.

I love my Saucony shoes, so when I felt this strong urge to go for pair number two, I gave it a day...to see if it was just a passing phase. No need to act rashly. Monday came and went; but today, I woke up and knew I needed to have them. Tonight I was scheduled to take a killer intenSati class at the Vanderbilt YMCA. I'd buy the new shoes on my way to the class, and then test them out with an hour of turbo-aerobic-yogic-spaztastic jumping up and down!

When I arrived at Super Runner's Shop in Grand Central, I saw my current pair of running shoes propped up for sale up on the shelf - same color and everything. As Carrie Bradshaw would say, "Hello...lover!" I could just get another pair of the same shoes! Yes! So easy... but I wasn't sure what experts like my pal Hal would say about that. Was the point of the second pair of shoes to have the foot sitting in a slightly different torture boat? I asked the clerk and she stared at me blankly, as if I were taking this all a little too seriously. Then she told me that the model I currently had wasn't actually the optimal support for my freakishly high arches, and directed me to another style, which was $70 more expensive, ran small so I had to take a half-size up, and still doesn't really fit.

I went off to intenSati hoping that when I jammed my foot in the shoe over there, the anticipation of the class or something would make my foot shrink and the whole thing would slip on like butter. Needless to say, it didn't. Ten minutes into the class, both of my feet had gone numb and I had to run to the back of the room and switch the shoes out for my trusty old Flash Gordons. PS My new shoes are even flashier - black with hot pink accents - the same shoes the teacher has - and you know you think you're a big shot when you have the same shoes the teacher has! Yikes!

So now, I have a new pair of really tight running shoes to stare at and be mad about. Folks at the gym told me I'd just need to break them in a few times and they'd be fine. One guy said to me sarcastically, "What? Are you training for the Marathon or something?" Well yes I am, I told him. It took him a few minutes to get that I wasn't kidding. Anyway, I hope everyone's right and these shoes do break in or I know what I'm re-wrapping for my re-gifting birthday party this January!

So, tonight I did an hour of intenSati, which incorporates running, arm circles, jacks, stretching, non-stop vigorous aerobics, endless bending, clapping, ballet pliers and bows, standing on one foot, and - as I've mentioned before - yelling out affirmations such as: "Yes! I want it! Willpower! I've got it!" Half-way into it, you have forgotten whatever you said you wanted in the beginning of the class, and all you want is for the damn hour to end! I can barely walk right now. Hot bath, please.

Day 44: My Pal Hal

Today was a day of rest - but I did some strength training. I did repetitions of light (3 lb) arm weights and four sit ups. Yes, I said four. Shut up!

I will start 12 weeks of Half Marathon training on Monday, Dec 28th, and so now I'm in a two week process of training to train. My goal for the two weeks is to progressively increase my distance until I am able to run 3 miles without stopping, and alternatively, comfortably, at a pace of 6.0 mph for at least part of a mile - so that I can call myself a runner. I also want to maintain my achievement of being able to run for 30 minutes straight. Finally, I need to do this while incorporating more days of rest. I know that sounds antithetical, but the truth is, there's an addictive quality to running "every day" which I've latched on to and the thought of taking more days off - giving me a chance to take my eye off the ball - is terrifying! I know the day off is about rest, and recuperation, but I more so fear the psychological danger of losing focus...

At the moment, I am planning to do my 12 week training with Hal Higdon's online program for the novice. Hal seems like a good dude - well meaning, cheerful. Hal wants the best for me. My only concern is that Hal seems a little casual about it all and keeps saying how fun running is. Again - NOT FUN YET! I might be enjoying something about it (I can't put my finger on it... but I'll let you know when I do) - but I'd never say running is "fun."

But I think that's actually why I'm going to go with Hal as a virtual guide. I went to the local book shop yesterday and perused a bunch of guides to training for the Half Marathon and, frankly, they scared the shit out of me! All kinds of variations to practice, calculations to classify yourself as a runner (um, Triple Gold Bad Runner?), and when I did scratch math in my head to make sure I even fell into the "qualifies to train for this race at all" bucket, well, I didn't - and that alarmed me. I put all the books back on the shelf and ran out of the store. Excuse me - I jogged out of the store.

So, Hal feels like a warm hug after coming in from the cold. Hal says I can do it - and it's gonna be fun! I like that and, for $29.99, I can get that kind of positive reinforcement daily from Hal over all 12 weeks of my training in the form of emails and tracking grids. Hal says you can substitute this day for that, and really, it's all in my mind. I'd go so far as to say he implies I could run that darn Half Marathon today if I really wanted it badly enough. We shall see, Hal!

Day 43: Mind Over Body

I've been flirting with the idea of running the Half Marathon this upcoming March. When it was first suggested to me, I completely balked. 13.1 miles - come on! Impossible! Who do people think I am? I'm not even a runner yet - I'm barely a jogger. It came up over and over though, and eventually I started to ask a few friends in the know about my real prospects.

Almost everyone told me I could do it. "No problem!" they said, which immediately eroded my trust. No problem? Every day of training is a problem. When to fit it in? How to push myself through the discomfort and boredom? How to stay motivated? So saying "no problem" kind of misses the point. I called the one friend I knew would tell me the truth - Jolynn. She understands the struggle of transformation - she's done it herself. She'd give me the reasonable, safe answer.

Jolynn looked up the guidelines for training for the Half and we counted the weeks before the race. I was cutting it very close. It's recommended to train for 12 weeks, and before starting training, the candidate should have been running for 4-6 weeks already (check!) and be able to run for 30 minutes straight, without stopping... Ugh, not so check. Just sort of check. Three days ago I ran two miles without stopping, but I wasn't sure how long that took. Otherwise, I've been doing a lot of alternating - one mile jogging, one mile walking. That's what I thought I was supposed to do!

We agreed if I could run 30 minutes without stopping by Saturday (yesterday) I could train for the Half. If not, then I should let this one go by and sign up for another race in the spring. We hung up and I felt a mixture of sadness and relief.

My sadness turned into anger for some reason today. How is it possible that I've been working my little heart out for 43 days now, and haven't improved enough to take on what I gather some people find a reasonable challenge? How is it (a subject for another blog entry altogether) that I've been sweating up a storm, burning an extra 300 calories a day, eating better, and haven't slimmed down to lean, athletic perfection yet? I refuse to believe that all my effort "isn't working" - this must just be part of the (slow, torturous) process. Right?

Today I headed to the gym with the express purpose of seeing if I could run for 30 minutes straight, without stopping. I walked one mile first to warm up, took the laundry out of the washer and put it in the dryer, and then hit the treadmill for 30 minutes of jogging. It helped that my friend Robin was there at the same time. She told me about the play she was going to see tonight, the opening of "A Little Night Music," which her best friend is producing. We watched football. I listened to music. The time went by so very slowly... and my hips were a nuisance... but I did it.

I ran 30 minutes without stopping. So, technically, I should be able to follow the training guidelines and complete the Half Marathon come March 21. Now I need to just commit to signing up for the lottery. I went online last night and looked at the application. It asks your estimated finish time. I was going through the motions of filing it out and put down 7 hours. I thought that seemed realistic. I was serious! But then the auto-fill sent me a message saying sorry... if you can't finish the Half in 3 hours, you can't sign up. What!? There's a 3-hour cap? 13.1 miles in 3 hours. I x'd that PDF out immediately! Who did they think they were? Running snobs! So what if I needed a little more time?

The training schedule says, if I follow the guidelines for 12 weeks of training, I should be able to run the Half. I refuse to believe I'm an exception. My plan is to start training tomorrow, and if by Jan 5th (the deadline for entering) I feel comfortable with my progress, I will fork over the dough and apply for the lottery. I have a feeling I'm not going to feel "comfortable" though so I will have to work on listening to my brain instead of my body. A little militant - which isn't really my style! Here's a good old fashioned military quote I found on MarathonRookie.com (Adam R. you will like this):

"Now if you are going to win any battle you have to do one thing. You have to make the mind run the body. Never let the body tell the mind what to do. The body will always give up. It is always tired in the morning, noon, and night. But the body is never tired if the mind is not tired."

- George S. Patton, U.S. Army General, 1912 Olympian

Day 42: "Rocky"

Well, as it turns out, bodies in motion eventually need to rest. I arrived back to my apartment at 6AM this morning after a full week of travel and decided to take just a little nap before facing reentry... 10 hours later, I woke up feeling dazed from a dream in which I was drowning in the fast current of a river and, at the same time, attempting, while I drowned, to find a flight status on my BlackBerry. My ears were still painfully congested from flying, making it impossible for me to blow my nose; and I was thirsty and feeling more than a little down.

Was I getting sick? I drank orange juice and made chamomile tea. Did I just need coffee? Maybe - but I wasn't going to have any at 4PM and risk being up all night. Was I a little sad about being in my cold apartment in NYC, by myself? Even my cat's away staying with my mother for the month because I'll be traveling so much. Maybe.

I tried flipping the TV on but there wasn't anything to keep my attention. I dragged a week's worth of newspapers in off my doorstep and did a topline scan. My packed bags sat there begging to be unpacked. Then my eye hit the NetFlix envelopes I'd been carrying around the country with me for a week.

Most people I'm friends with simply put up with the fact that I go dead when the conversation turns to TV and movies. In short, I've been busy at night for the last decade or so - either working late, dating, taking classes, or out to dinner with friends - and frankly I don't really feel like I've missed anything important. I do enjoy one or two shows on HBO, CBS's "Sunday Morning," and will occasionally keep up with the Kardashians. But, other than that, I'm out of the loop and experience many awkward moments at the water cooler... and so I decided recently to try to catch up.

I signed up for NetFlix. It's not going very well. For two weeks I've been carting around the same three DVDs I ordered, wondering how/when to watch them. It's just not in my chemical makeup to sit down for 30 minutes, or 2 hours, with the express purpose of watching a show. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy it once I'm there, but getting myself there is like pulling teeth.

The first DVDs I ordered were season one of "Mad Men," which EVERYONE tells me I MUST watch - and the movie "Rocky." Now, I always incorrectly assumed that "Rocky" was a fictional story about a guy who was a boxer, played by Sylvester Stallone; but the folks at work told me I have to see this movie because in it Rocky runs. I don't get it. Anyway, we have a big team meeting this upcoming week in Philadelphia which is, apparently, where Rocky lived and trained - and my colleagues think it would be fun if I did my training on the same staircase where Rocky trained. I ordered the movie so I'd know what the heck they're talking about and it'll be meaningful to me too when I do this staircase run on Thursday morning and they take pictures.

I just realized I don't actually know how to use my DVD player so I might not be able to watch the movie tonight. Sigh...

Day 41: Just Jogging

Well, as it turns out, all this time I haven't been running at all - I've just been jogging. I had no idea. I thought anything over 4 mph was a run; but today I spent the day with a dedicated runner who told me the truth. Running doesn't happen until you're going at a pace of 6 mph or higher. Before that, it's just jogging.

It's OK. I'm not discourage (much). I'll keep training at the pace I'm going and hope that eventually, one day, I can call myself a runner. The good news is, now that I know what running actually is, I can tell you without reservation that I definitely still hate to run. I'm no hypocrite. This blog is gen-u-wine. Whereas, I was soon going to have to admit that I'm getting into whatever I've been doing; but thankfully, I won't have to face an embarrasing moment like that any time soon. So, no worries. If you like people who hate to run, I'm still your girl.

Tonight I ran... ahem - excuse me. Let me start over. Tonight I walked and jogged 5K. I warmed up with a fast walk for .5 mile, then jogged 1 mile, then fast walked another .5 mile, and then finished strong with another mile of fast jogging, followed by a cool down. Afterward, I used the medicine ball to stretch, drank about 2 liters of minted water, and ate a light dinner of grilled shrimp and sweet potato soup. Good times...

Now I am off to the airport to catch a red eye back home. I think I managed this week on the road pretty well; so I'm proud of that. And I look forward to continuing my "jogging" program when I get back to NYC.

Day 40: Chop Wood, Carry Water

Day 40! 325 days left to train. Here's a twist in the blog... tonight I'm blogging before I work out. I'm in Phoenix on business. I got exactly 4 hours of sleep last night, started work at 6:20AM today, and have been "on" since. I just want to crash but not before I get my training in.

I'm staying at the Ritz Carlton tonight which is fancy in an old school way that I find terribly comfortable. Excellent sheets. A marble bath and European soaps. Fresh, healthy room service. My every need, anticipated and met by the hotel's handsome staff. When I went down to survey the gym earlier, I half expected to find a trainer who would be willing to run for me, and save me the embarrassment of sweating.

Of course though, no such person exists. The gym's just a gym with a bunch of standard issue treadmills. I will be doing my own training tonight. This made me think of a quote attributed to the Buddha. After achieving enlightenment, the Buddha was asked by a wise man, "So, tell me. How's life different now that you've achieved enlightenment?" to which the great Buddha replied, "Before enlightenment: chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment: chop wood, carry water."

Brilliant. I may be in one of the fanciest chain hotels in the world right now, but in order to really know the best life has to offer, my only option is to keep working hard. As routinized or laborious as training may feel in moments, its continuation IS the prize - more so even than my actually running the Marathon could ever be. This is the finish line. Tonight and every night. Now, where are they hiding my medal?
___
Addendum: I walked one fast mile and then jogged 2.1 miles tonight - 5K total! Very proud of myself. It was hard work but I didn't feel desperate to quit at any moment. I ran at a pace of 4.2 for the second mile, and then 4.4 to 5 mps for the third. Minor pains on and off in both knees and both feet. All passed after a few minutes. When I hit 1.7 miles of running it occurred to me that I'd just met one of my goals - to run (the equivalent of) the Lower Loop without any stopping. As the odometer rolled from 2.69 to 2.7 miles, I almost cried I was so happy! I was envisioning this moment weeks ago and now it is finally here. I can run the Lower Loop without stopping! When I started, I couldn't run 300 feet without stopping. The stretching bridge was a stretch - and the magic tree nearly knocked me out. I've made progress! I can't wait to get back to NYC and try to run the Lower Loop itself - hopefully it won't be too snowy and cold.

Day 39: Go, Michelle!

Just fast walked half a mile, then ran one mile (ranging from 4.5 mph to 5.5 mph), then walked half a mile (ranging between 3.5 and 4.2) - so 2 miles total - and then stretched. I watched the Villanova-Hawks game on TV while I was running, which was fun! I've never watched sports while running, I don't think - kinda strange, kinda good. I imagined the cheerleaders' pompoms were for me. Go, Michelle! Go, Michelle! Run! Is it strange to admit that?

Feeling groovy but gotta jam now to the airport again. This time headed for Arizona. They've got treadmills in Arizona, right?

Peace out, sneaker people!

Day 38: No Bluffing

I'm in Vegas. What happens here, says here, right? So do I really need to run today? Couldn't I "bluff" just this once?

No way! I had to fight with myself tooth and nail to get to the treadmill this afternoon but I did it. I was so tired (up at 4AM to catch a flight) and not feeling well (combination of having eaten a beef burrito for breakfast at the airport, followed by Mentos for lunch - and the stress I'm under right now to pass a professional exam tomorrow, which is the reason I'm in town).

In the taxi to my hotel I started to plan out my afternoon - all the work I needed to get done and then how to squeeze in a quick run before a night of business commitments. I considered how taking another day off would feel... Who would know?

Just then an email came in from my friend Cat thanking me for my support of her latest fundraising run in which she'd beaten her own best time by over an HOUR. Whoa. Cat also ran this year's Marathon in record time; what an inspiration. She's another person who promises I'll soon love the feeling of running... (I'm waiting, people!) Anyway, the email asked how my training was going; she couldn't wait to cheer me on at the 2010 Marathon! (Of course, she'll be able to finish, go home and shower, have a 5 course celebratory brunch, and then return to stand on the finish line to wave at me as I crawl across the finish line!) But anyway, the unintended guilt trip worked.

When I got to the hotel registration desk, the first thing I asked about was the fitness center. I made the guy behind the desk show it to me on the resort's map. It looked far away... I asked if there were rooms closer to the fitness center and he explained that yes, there were, but they weren't as nice as the one I'd been assigned. I said I didn't care and made him put me literally in the same pavilion, and on the same floor, as the gym! Extra bonus - the gym has a bottled water cooler so I can fill up there and not die from Vegas tap water.

Around 5PM I made it to the gym - with the intention of running 3 miles. Easier said than done. My burrito bonanza breakfast was still giving me heartburn and my legs simply wouldn't move - worn out I guess from 3 hours of skiing yesterday. Additionally, my breathing felt really strained. A friend gave me some nose:mouth / in:out breathing ratios to try and I got so caught up in my head attempting to meet the paradigm, and failing, that it undermined my ability to keep going. Maybe I'll just keeping breathing in and out of my mouth for a while. Is that so bad?

I only ended up running 1.3 miles but did it at 5.5 the entire time. No warm up before or after. I don't feel great about it, but there's always tomorrow.

Day 37: I Ride

I'm snowed in in Tahoe today. My flight to Vegas was cancelled and there weren't even any taxis willing to take me to the airport, anyway. We've gotten 36" of snow in the last 24 hours. It's a skier's paradise! Problem is, I'm not much of a skier.

I grew up dabbling in skiing but never quite getting a handle. When I was a kid, I went on bus trips with friends from school and took very few lessons. I'd just wing it. I remember falling a lot and not knowing how to get up - and just lying there peacefully in thick powder until ski patrol would come to save me. That quiet time looking up at the sky was my happy time.

I wasn't just a bad skier, I was dangerous. My friends and I would dare each other to go down steep hills at top speed. I once caused my friend to crash into a tree and break her glasses. Another time, I slammed into a barrier chain and flipped around it a few times to my friends' amusement. How I never broke a bone is a mystery! Another time I completely lost a pair of rental skis; I took a tumble and they unhinged and slipped right over the side of the mountain, never to be seen again; I had to walk down in my boots. In college, I was in the back seat of a bad car wreck on a ski trip; we all ended up in the emergency room and my shoulder was dislocated so badly that it still hurts me sometimes. I never dressed properly, either. I'd wear jeans and a cowboy bandanna around my face - and Vaurnet sunglasses. I constantly fell in puddles and was a frozen Popsicles by noon.

By the time I was in my 20s I was starting to realize I had a choice - I didn't have to ski if I didn't want to - and if I were going to ski, I could take lessons and get better. Since my best friends at the time had a ski house in Colorado, and there didn't seem to be any way to escape the sport, I decided to opt for the latter. I'd go to Colorado and focus on the parts of the trip I really loved - cooking for a crowd, movies, games, and general togetherness - and then I'd go off on my own and take lessons.

I got better but, because my friends were all skiing double black diamond slopes, I had to stretch way past my comfort zone, and really, past my interest, to ski with them. I loved the feeling of being on top of the mountain, the view, the swoosh-swoosh of the snow, and the exhilaration of having accomplished a challenging hill; but the crowds on the mountain and the general pressure to "ski the trees" and "take moguls" kind of ruined it for me. One guy used to pick on me in particular. We're both very competitive and he couldn't cope with my comparative weakness - and lack of interest in jousting with him. On my last trip to Colorado, I came down with pneumonia. The competitive guy was really pissed about this and made everyone uncomfortable as he attacked me endlessly for staying in with my 103 degree fever. I vowed never to go to Colorado with that group again and, in fact, I never skied again.

So, when this trip for work came up, I half-heartedly packed my ski clothes from 2002, and my ski jacket from 1997. (The jacket I used in 2002 was a boarding jacket and hasn't got any bells or whistles, and isn't even warm. Function over fashion, I decided. I didn't expect to have to use anything, anyway.)

But surprise, surprise. I'm snowed in today and so here was the perfect opportunity to test the (frozen) waters and get a cross-training workout in. I wouldn't have to ski at anyone else's pace, or worry about crowds. I didn't need a lesson. I know how to ski and, unlike tennis where there are about 15 things you need to remember within a 1 second time frame, in skiing you pretty much just need to remember: lean forward, feet together, look at the road, shift your weight, and yield to oncoming traffic!

I started with a beginner hill which was basically a 30 minute cross country experience because the snow was so fresh and thick, I couldn't get any speed! I arrived back at the base's gondola sweating and exhausted. The lift team all smiled and remembered me since there were only about 300 people on the mountain at all today! This is a mountain that supports up to 30,000 skiers on a typical peak season Saturday...but it's a Monday, early in the season, and none of the locals could drive through to get here! They suggested if I thought I could handle it, I should just go straight to the summit and ski all the way down. I figured I had nothing to lose, so I went for it.

Long, long story short, it was amazing - the best skiing of my life! I got an excellent workout in, didn't fall once, was able to challenge myself, saw the most beautiful sights, and at the top of the mountain met a bunch of great people and even did some business. What a day...

One observation I've made about the gap time that passed between my last and today's ski experience is how much skiing has actually changed in just 7 years. I was one of maybe 10 skiers on the hill - the rest were all boarders. In chatting with my new friends at the bar at the summit, they told me that for a while there was a rift between "skiers" and "boarders" - old school and new at odds for power. A peacemaker had come along though and encouraged the two factions to drop their politics - and the labels "skiing" and "boarding" - in favor of the unifying term, "riding." So I don't actually ski now, I ride. They also don't call hats "hats" any more. A hat is a "beanie."

It's hard to explain the strange feeling I have stepping back into a world I haven't touched in 7 years. It's like I've been in a coma. The kids on the slopes are the same age I was when I left, but now I'm older. I don't have this experience as I train for the Marathon because I've never been a runner before, and I've never wanted to be. If there were trends in running in the 80s and 90s, I'm unaware of them. All my running gear is new. I don't feel any pressure to be better than where I'm at. Right now, I am the best I've ever been! ...and the best part is, the only person I'm in competition with, is myself.

Day 36: So Much for Balance

Today is an unplanned day off. It's Sunday and I'm working in North Lake Tahoe. I'm here to help host an event that was to be an outdoor party with s'more roasting over huge fire pits, a band, and 500 VIPs on the guest list. But Nature had other plans. It's 8 degrees out right now and big balls of snow have been falling sideways since noon. Good for the ski mountain, bad for us.

I've spent most of the day helping to move all our party gear from our outdoor space, which we set up yesterday, to a new indoor space. I've fallen on ice twice in my running shoes - my arm's totally bruised - and there's no way I'm going to make it to the gym before the event starts in 30 minutes, or afterward.

So, today's a day off, and balance, but a sweet memory...

Day 35: Balance

It's Saturday today, and I'm in North Lake Tahoe, CA, on a business trip. I'll be on the road now for a week but am determined to keep up my training, at odd hours if necessary, and despite the awkwardness of traveling with not only a week's worth of business clothes for three geographies, but enough running gear.

A friend recently gave me an old copy of Runner's World. It was the November issue, which comes out in October, so it was filled with pre-marathon and Turkey Trot advice and advertising. I was really surprised by how accessible the content was. I'd of course heard of Runner's World but assumed it was only for high performing runners - not for newbies like me. On the plane between NY and Reno, I found myself devouring the features, one after the next.

In the magazine there was a chart that gave beginning training advice - how to train for a Turkey Trot! Gee... wish I'd known about that a few weeks ago! But anyway, I saw I'd pretty much done everything wrong, which was strangely reassuring - that if I'd done it right, maybe it would have been easier. I decided to use some of the 5K training tips for my next workout.

After working outdoors for most of the day, in 11 degree Fahrenheit weather, I finally had time to head over to the gym - but when I got there, I found it locked and empty. What!? NO! I refused to take no for an answer... I circled the building entirely, looked for a service entrance - anything. I was prepared to sneak in! The lights were on inside the building. Finally, out of desperation - last ditch effort - I tried just banging hard on the glass doors! Eventually, someone from housekeeping emerged and stared at me tentatively. I pleaded and held an entire conversation with her through the glass door until finally, she let me in!

As directed by Runner's World, I walked one mile to warm up, and then ran 2 miles alternating between walking (at a pace of 3.5 mph) and running (on a 3 point incline, at a pace of 4 mph). Instead of listening to music, I watched Nancy Grace repeat the Tiger Woods 911 call about seven times, and Joy Behar interview Howie Mandel. Boring! But I didn't need better entertainment.

As hard as miles 2 and 3 were to get through, especially at the end, I had fun with my new game - guessing my own heart rate. I'm pretty good at it! Today I was accurate every single time within one bpm. I also like to watch the calories burn, and study my breath. Runner's World talks a lot about being able to hold a conversation while you are running (you're supposed to be able to). Let me be very clear about this to any newbie like me who might read this blog - I am NOT able to hold a conversation while running yet! Are you kidding? I'm barely able to do the whole "breath in through your nose, out through your mouth" thing - but I am trying.

My workout took 45 minutes, so my pace wasn't so fantastic - and slower than I achieved at the Turkey Trot - but it's my first three mile run since the Trot and I'm very proud to have completed it. After running I treated myself to a luxurious steam. Now sushi and then back to work... I think this really is what they mean when they talk about having "balance" in your life. Feels good.

Day 34: Club Kid

I ran one mile today at 11:20. Not too shabby! You people who are out there running 5 miles a day are probably reading this and thinking I'm never going to make any real progress if I don't up my time... and you might be right. But for the moment, I'm grooving on watching myself make baby steps.

Speaking of grooving... running has reignited my passion for dancing. I've always been involved with some kind of dance since the time I can remember. Ballet was my first love and, until second grade, when my body decided not to be anorexic and tall, I thought might be my destiny. I practiced ballet so hard when I was a pre-schooler that to this day I still naturally stand in "first position" with my heels touching and toes turned out. I had a ballet box for my shoes and tutu that I basically slept with; and for one particular recital, I had my ballet shoes spray painted gold lame. On that day, I was a star...

After ballet came tap and jazz, which I took for years. Then there was modern dancing, which suited my moody pre-teen mindset. By 8th grade, I was signed up for formal dancing at the Methodist church. A bunch of us from school took it together. We had to wear dresses and white gloves, and the boys sat on one side of the church and the girls on the other. Of course the boys were our friends we'd known since nursery school. They were shorter than we were - and awkward, which made the whole thing seem a tiny bit less exciting than I think it was supposed to be; but I loved the dancing - especially the jitterbug.

By the time I was a freshman in high school, some of my friends and I had discovered the local club scene. We practiced "moves" together at home. Rumona always had the best arm gestures going on! Anyone remember that? We regularly "borrowed" family cars after dark and hightailed it over to seedier neighboring towns that had dance clubs. We'd use IDs we'd had made in Manhattan to get in and dance the night away with slightly greasy but eager strangers. When I turned 17, a bunch of us got braver and began heading down to the clubs in NYC - places we heard mentioned on Z-100. Emerald City, Red Zone, The Tunnel. Sometimes we'd get pulled into VIP rooms there and meet interesting people like local sports stars, none of whom I ever knew... or at 5'1" could even have a conversation with. What? What? Sorry... you play sports? DUH! We'd stay until they closed the club down.

For me, my fascination with the club scene was two fold. One, of course, it was the feeling of escaping my high-pressure academic reality for a night and just letting myself get swept up in the amazing energy of good music; but two, it was a fascination about what this music and a little mood lighting could do to an otherwise ugly, empty space in some obscure part of town. We're talking about selling a product with absolutely no inherent benefits - by simply adding a little sparkle and marketing. Getting it right took vision and determination (and possibly a few payoffs, I later learned).

The club scene was the ultimate theater. The owner would pick what seemed at the time like the least strategic location to rent out an empty space, paint the interior entirely black, install some lights with gels, a smoke machine and 5' woofers. Turn the lights off and there was magic. People came from all over the place to drink watery sex on the beach cocktails in cheap plastic cups, sweat through their drop-waisted dresses, and rip their L'Eggs nylons on the dance floor.

Over the years I learned about the role of the club owner and promoter, and that I think sparked my interest in psychology, positioning, repositioning and the nature of feeling good. I threw myself into the behind-the-scenes side of entertainment - talent management, advertising, and later fragrance and spirits marketing. I've never forgotten what I learned in those early years though about making something out of nothing. All good things incorporate a bit of theater, don't they?

So as I prepare for this big show I'm going to audition for next fall - the Marathon - I'm being careful to manage the theater I am training in. I don't want any part of me getting lost on the way, leaving early, or forgetting to come back. There's a lot of promotion going on (like this blog!), reasonable hydration, and the DJ's got to have the latest tunes.

It's a strange thing to play dance music at 6:30 AM. Sometimes I feel like I'm just coming home from a night out, especially if I've neglected to take my makeup off the night before! I think I'm way too old now to go out to one of the real clubs in the city unless it is through a work promotion; but I'm really enjoying pretending for a minute that I'm a club kid as I step into that mirrored elevator in my apartment building... I just hope the camera in there is a dummy because it's a party when I hit that button going down to the gym on the 9th floor...

Day 33: Abducted

I ran 1 mile today at a pace of 13:20. My heart rate spiked to 171 at points by the end of the mile, and I was overwhelmed by a feeling of nausea. I was running on a huge tumbler of freshly brewed Mexican coffee and a bottle of water - I hope I don't have to give that ritual up. After a 1 minute break I felt a little better and so fired the machine back up again - and walked and ran another .6 miles until that lightheaded feeling started again - and I stopped.

I feel great right now. Nothing hurts. I don't need to stretch. My heart may be working overtime, but the rest of me - my legs, my knees, even my arms and back - are not complaining the way they were even a week ago. That's improvement. I guess the key now is to just keep pushing my time and my speed a little bit each day.

In my life, I've often noticed that I can get used to anything over time - even things that initially seem completely absurd - like moving from an office with a window and a door, to a cube! With repetition, they become more familiar and their insult softens; eventually you can't imagine not hearing the sound of your neighbor's breathing, or knowing what's going on with the woman across the hall's father, or how many times Z100 plays Jay-Z's freaking "Empire State of Mind." The answer to that last one has thankfully dropped to once every two hours...

In the criminal world, I think they call this "identifying with your aggressor." For example, when someone is kidnapped, over time, they naturally begin to empathize with their captor - understand his motives, and sometimes even begin to assist him. The urge to fight back for individual rights once held wains and there are new sources of pleasure in the captor/captive relationship - enough pleasure that there isn't a reason to look back.

I am beginning to empathize with my own figurative captor - the collection of reason I've had my whole life for not doing this, for not running. So, what seemed completely absurd and evil and unfamiliar just 33 days ago, is starting to feel a little bit less so. We are of course still under cover, my captor and me - on the run from the authorities, driving around to find a safe haven, maybe even looking for a place to settle down for while. It's chaos in our world and we need to lay low for a while or we'll risk getting caught.

At first I was checking the locks on the doors every time I could - to see if maybe I could slip out. Now, I think about checking but sometimes I forget to - I am resigned to the idea that I'm not going anywhere and lines between danger and safety have begun to blur. Am I safer outside this car - or inside? I just don't know any more... What would I say in a "Help!" note I used to fantasize about handing to the waitress at the next diner we stop at for a meal? I don't want to risk getting caught now, and punished for trying to escape. That might be a lot worse than carrying on wherever we are going. On the flip side, what if I actually were to break free from this situation... What would I do then on my own? I don't even know where we are.

Of course, I still fondly remember my hometown of laziness, my comfortable excuses, the way I used to play dumb about the world around me. But if I can be honest with you, the view from the back seat of this getaway car is actually kind of exciting. I'm only loosely bound now and the blindfold is off. My panic is subsiding so that I can relax a little and turn my attention to all the new scenery unfolding outside my window... I don't know where we are going on this adventure - my fears, my captor, and I - but I know we are driving far, far away from where I used to live in my life - before I was abducted.

Day 32: Appointed Rounds

My free time is short today, and I had to just jam in a quickie of a run this morning. One mile. No warm up. No stretching. All routine and no glory, which produced a completely insight-free experience that's both boring to write about and (I'm sure) even more boring to read about.

I'm actually not feeling well today. I got the H1N1 vaccine at a pop-up kiosk in O'Hare on Monday morning. I've had the seasonal flu vaccine already, and had put myself on every conceivable list for the H1N1 vaccine in NYC - because nothing's going to stop me from training! So, I was thrilled when I stepped off the plane in Chicago and there, at the top of the escalator leading to that psycho-neon-filled under-passage, there was a lady in a 1950s style nurse's uniform offering vaccines of all kinds. All I had to do was establish eligibility and 10 minutes and $22 later, she'd shot my nostrils up with her potion.

Nursey said I wouldn't suffer any side effects - but she lied. And everyone I've talked to since who has also had the H1N1 nasal spray innoculation tells me they too felt the effects I'm feeling. Achy, tired, and my nose is so dry... I can't stop thinking about what might have been in that stuff. Have I just exposed myself to some insidious evil that will manifest itself sometime later in my life? Or am I just reacting to the preservatives - like I always do?

I do know that I'm glad I can rest assured I won't be getting swine flu any time soon. My cousin Emily had it and had to be removed from her university - and quarantined for over a week. I'm in training and can't suffer a setback like that. So, like the postman, neither rain nor snow, nor sleet nor dark of night, nor seasonal flu nor swine flu, shall stay this courier from the swift completion of her appointed rounds! To the Marathon, I go! (And while I'm at it, does anyone need stamps?)

Day 31: Phoning It In

Who says you can't phone it in! I'm in Chicago today for business but got up at 6:45AM to be ready for my "telewalk" with the Alligator. No small feat after having had literally about 2 hours of sleep on Sunday night, and then last night I wasn't in bed until midnight following a super fun dinner at Chicago's Coco Pazzo.

I'd forgotten to bring my ear piece so I was going to have to walk with one arm up the whole time, holding the handset. Extra exercise, I told myself - an arm workout!

By 7:05AM Central, and 8:05AM Eastern, we were off and walking. Since the Alligator lives about 5 long blocks from my apartment back in NYC, she actually goes past my building on her way to work most days. Today I asked her to pause at my door and say hello to my doorman Alan for me. She did and I could hear Alan on the other end saying my name enthusiastically. I did an imaginary fist-bump with him in my mind...like the real one we usually do when I'm headed out to run. It didn't matter where I was - life and training could go on, uninterrupted, thanks to the phone.

While my arms went alternately numb from holding the phone to my ear, the Alligator and I caught up on life. I did feel a twinge of guilt about the noise pollution I was creating in the gym, but most of the folks down there were wearing iPods and the ones who weren't didn't seem bothered; or at least that's what I told myself.

After an hour, the phone was dangerously sweaty and my arm was practically shaking from holding it up for so long. Who knew a 1/4 lb "weight" could provide such resistance. I asked the Alligator if she thought I could electrocute myself by holding a wet phone next to my head. Neither of us knew the answer; so, to err on the side of caution, we agreed I should probably hang up.

Day Thirty: Lottery #479965

Well, it's day 30 today. Holy crapper! An entire month of living like I mean it...

I had an early morning flight to Chicago today for work and will be in focus groups until 9pm tonight, followed by a group dinner. There won't be any running for Mimi today... But that's OK. A day of rest a week has been prescribed by the Oracle, as you'll recall.

To kick off day one of a new month tomorrow morning, I've asked my friend Allison to help support my superstitions. Now, I do not believe in being superstitious at all - please!! But just in case, I figure, why not. Since I started my training off with a 5 mile walk with Allison, she has agreed to get up early with me and walk before work. We can't actually walk together because she's in NY, and I'll be in Chicago; but we'll walk and talk on the phone! Based on her recent fb updates, I'm pretty sure we're going to have a lot to talk about!

As I prepare to enter month two, I'm also thinking about how to up my training. I will need a second pair of sneakers. There's that Nike technology that tracks your mileage and pace through your iPod - maybe I'll get that. I'm never going to run less than a mile without stopping again - ever. And tonight, I signed myself up for the lottery for next year's Marathon! Special thanks to Andy for giving me the heads up about that. I am lottery # 479965 and I'll find out in March whether I made it in. Until then, I'm training like I mean it, baby! Wish me luck!

Day Twenty-Nine: Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger

I barely thought about running today. I wasn't tired, or overly busy, or afraid; I just woke up uninterested. They say it takes 30 days of repetition to make any behavior a habit. Today is day twenty-nine of my training. So close to that benefit... Was I going to falter just shy of the mark?

Sometime in the late afternoon I sat down at the computer and logged in to blogger.com. I selected "New Post" and typed "Day Twenty-Nine:" in the title. As I was about to finish with, "Day Off," because I had no intention of working out at that point, I noticed I felt a twinge of guilt. There was still time left in the day to get a run in. Yes, I did have a boatload of work I needed to do for a class I'm taking - an advanced bartender course that my company is requiring I complete - and the exam is next week in Las Vegas - but surely I could carve out 30 minutes for a sprint if I really wanted to.

My eyes fell down the page to previous days' posts, and comments left by friends from all parts of my life. New friends, old friends, former bosses and colleagues, neighbors, ex-boyfriends, cousins... So many people I care about have been showing me their support. Not just here, but on facebook and gmail, too, and with calls and texts. And even more amazing - so many have told me that I am inspiring them to get off their duffs and run again, or try running, or just think about getting in shape. The benefits I feel are so tremendous; if I can help someone else realize that feeling for themselves, well then, I don't know what more I could ask for out of all this.

I had a little talk with myself, put the shoes on, and took myself to the gym. I felt like I needed to play a little game with myself, to keep my own interest; so I decided I wanted to test myself - and see if I could run one mile straight, without stopping, and faster than my pace in yesterday's race. While my overall pace had been a 13:30 mile, I'd completed my first mile in 13:13, so I decided to try to beat that.

In the gym I was running next to a man who looked like a trainer and I glanced at his speed. He was running at 7 mph! Oh geez. Funny thing was I thought initially we'd looked like we were running the same pace. I think I just looked like I was working as hard as he was!

I cranked mine up as high as I could stand it (5.8) and kept it at that speed through the whole mile, just until the last 10th of a mile when I had to drop down to 4.8 because I simply could not breathe. In the end, I ran my mile in 12:20! A whole minute faster than I'd run it yesterday! Then I got off the treadmill and did some small arm weights. My body's getting a little weird... stronger in some places - and not stronger everywhere else. I definitely need to start doing sit-ups. Oh dread. I think I might hate sit-ups more than I hate running, which is - as you know - a pretty strong dose of hate!

Quote of the day: "Now that which don't kill me, can only make me stronger. I need you to hurry up now, 'cause I can't wait much longer!"

Day Twenty-Eight: 5K (uphill) in 41:55

I placed #362 out of 399 runners in the race today! The whole thing started out so badly that, really, I am just thrilled to have finished at all.

I had to sleep at my childhood home last night in order to make it to the race on time. In the morning, as I dressed, my mother stood there watching from the doorway, hysterically crying, "Oh my G-d! It's awful out there! You can't go!" "No negatives!" I screamed back at her and struggled to drag the sliding door across the carpet and between us. From the other side I could hear her still whimpering, "What will happen! Oh no! This is dangerous! My car! Be careful with my car..."

She wasn't wrong, the weather was a bit harsh, but I didn't want anything stopping me so I literally ran out of the house without saying good bye, leaving the front door swinging! I called her from the corner and told her I was on my way, that she should lock the front door. "I thought I was coming with you," she whined, though we had already agreed she wasn't. Then she suddenly turned chipper, "Well, have a great time! I'm so glad you're doing something you love." "Mom!" I laughed back, "This is not fun! Remember? I hate running!" "Oh right, right..." she said, "I know. Your blog. You hate to run." "Yes! I hate to run. Now, wish me luck!" and she did.

I checked my BlackBerry as I drove myself to Bedford, my mother's Honda swaying in gale force winds the whole way. I had to stop twice en route as Police cars directed traffic around huge fallen trees. I had my amazing new Sugoi pants and fuzzy Nike hat and gloves on though and was pretty sure they'd keep me warm in the 42 degree weather; at least I wouldn't die of heat stroke. The other thing I had on was my lucky T-shirt. It's this ghastly heather grey XL synthetic fiber T-shirt that used to say Williams on it, but hasn't for years. I got it during the summer of 1987 when I was at Bennington College for the July Program and visited nearby Williams to scope it out before applying. I don't know why I love that shirt so much but it's been with me now for 22 years so I figure it has the kind of fortitude I need in a situation like this. Physically, I was feeling pretty good except for a knot in my left hip, which I assumed I'd fix with a little stretching at the start line. I wondered how many people would be there.

When I got to Bedford, there wasn't a soul in sight. I was an hour early. I decided to drive around town and see if there were race course markers because while I'd seen the start and finish lines yesterday, I had no idea where the course actually went. I was curious about this "big hill" everyone was talking about. This was horse country and there sure were a lot of rolling hills; but how big could this big hill be?

The course started out by the Bedford elementary school with a steep hill right away. Could this be "the" hill? I wasn't scared yet! But it wasn't. The course stretched out for half a mile on a slight incline, then a slight decline, and then a right turn onto Indian Hill Road. If you don't know Bedford, let me tell you about Indian *Hell* Road which slopes upwards at an angle of 45 degrees for close to a mile. If you think I'm kidding, I'm not. At the precipice, it then shifts into 45 degree downhill hairpin turns for about a quarter mile, and then the rest of the course was up and down, up and down, at 5-15 degree angles. Honestly - ridiculous! I've only ever run on flat surfaces but for the slight ups and downs on the Lower Loop, which I'm embarrassed to remember I've ever bitched about! This was going to be impossible. I was scared.

I headed back to the parking lot feeling deflated. A crowd was forming. The first person I encountered was, as luck would have it, an old friend and former colleague from days at JMCP, Cindy Pomroy! We haven't seen each other in 10 years! It was such a joy to see her and so fun to catch up, I almost forgot what I was about to be going through! Cindy wasn't running, she was just handing out T-shirts and goodie bags.

I got my number and tried to figure out how to pin it to my chest - above the boobs, below the boobs, on the Tshirt or on the jacket. I looked at the other women for some guidance but most of them were pretty flat chested and it didn't matter. I expressed my concern about over/under the jacket to a teenage girl who was accompanied by her obese but very proud parents, who kept taking photos of her while she giggled, "Stop!" and she said to go with over the jacket - that there wasn't any way I'd get so hot I'd have to take my jacket off. I did as she said. She looked like she knew what she was doing. She and the rest of the Fox Lane Cross Country team were there and you have to assume the kids were getting some intelligent coaching. This was Westchester. Only the best for the children.

I could feel my nerves starting - and the knot in my hip wasn't abating. I grabbed a hard, plain bagel and ate half a banana from the hospitality table, hoping food would soothe my nerves. 40 minutes to race time. Runners started to load into the buses taking us to the start line. I went to one for warmth! When we got off the buses, everyone piled into the elementary school where a local trainer led about 200 of us in some warm up exercises, which I was actually quite grateful for. I was exhausted by the end of the warm up, though, which only made me more concerned! I considered asking the trainer about the knot in my hip but didn't want to risk his telling me I shouldn't run.

I got in line for the ladies' room along with 20 or so others and happened to be behind a woman wearing a thermal jacket with an Absolut vodka logo on it. I was wearing my Proximo jacket - partly chosen because I figured if I had to ditch it, I wouldn't mind losing it! ...and party chosen because it's warm, it fits me perfectly and I love it. (Kind of symbolic of my whole experience there.) I asked the woman if she worked at Pernod Ricard and, wouldn't you know, she did! We actually have emailed each other but we hadn't met in person yet. I felt happy to know one more person.

With 5 minutes to start time, we were herded out into the street, at the bottom of the first short hill. A few if the girls and I compared "first songs" on our iPods. One girl couldn't get her iPod to work for a minute and we all swooped in to help her fixt the problem. OH MY GOSH! Such a relief we felt for her when it was all over. 4 of the 5 girls had "Empire State" as their first song... I thought of Brian at the office - and how we joke about this song coming on every hour on the radio - and about how here I was running the freaking Turkey Trot and he'd told me before leaving for break that he wasn't actually going to run his this year. Ugh!

The gun went off - or someone yelled "Go!" - I really don't remember - but suddenly we were all running. Within SECONDS people were passing me in droves. It was as if I were standing still, and they were all running. Were they pacing themselves? What!? Was I really this slow? I put my head down and focused on my music, my breathing, my path to the Marathon. OK - then I looked up and felt bad about myself and notice that my hip was KILLING me and that I couldn't catch my breath, and I needed to blow my nose and was thirsty. Was it too soon to stop and walk already at 2 minutes? YES! Go, Go, Go, Michelle! Parents holding children of 7 and 8 years old on either hand were passing me. A round girl in a head-to-toe emerald green workout suit passed me. NO WAY! I sped up. That girl was not going to beat me.

I can barely remember Indian Hill Road. I remember looking back and noticing I wasn't last and feeling somewhat grateful - and then looking up to the top and feeling hopelessness wash over me - and then talking to myself and saying just look 3 feet ahead. Do not stop. Walk. Walk big and fast. Pick it up, Sanders! Move! Move! I remember being grateful that it was so cold and the sun was shining on my face. I smiled the whole time because even though it was miserable, as soon as I hit the 2 mile mark I knew I was going to finish - and that was all I cared about. Finishing and not getting injured. I noticed my hip suddenly stopped hurting.

As I came down the last 1/4 mile towards the finish, Cindy was waiting at the corner of Route 22 cheering people on. I called her name out when I saw her! The sound of my own voice surprised me - I was still alive - still breathing! Then something magical happened. I've had some magical moments in my life when something in nature has surprised me with its beauty - overwhelmed me and totally captured my attention. As I ran down the road next to St. Patrick's I looked down and there was a strip of tar that ran out ahead of me in the kind of ordered chaos one sees at the molecular level in nature. A man had clearly laid the path, but it was feathered and artful. Its black surface was shining in the sun, leading me along the last leg of the race, seducing me with its beauty. Eminem was in my ear telling me about his mom's spaghetti and I thought of 8 Mile in Detroit, where I've been - and even been to some of the seediest strip clubs on tequila market surveys. Eminem got himself out of Salem's Lot and I was going to get myself out of this race! Almost there!

I turned into the parking lot and saw the finish line! I was so excited, I sped up. I glanced ahead of me to see who was in their moment of glory and there she was - the girl in the emerald warm up suit! Oh no!!! There was no way I could speed up and beat her now - she was already crossing the line. I thought I'd left her in the dust around mile 2, when I was in my prime! That sneaky girl! But I was too happy to be mad at myself for not beating her. We were both finishing. She could have her emerald green moment of glory and... I was going to have mine.

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