Day 92: 9 Miles Thanks to Candy with Benefits

OK, I'm getting it. I'm not saying I won't lose it again, or that I was perfect today - I wasn't - I was slow; but I also wasn't close to death when I finished and that's some major progress. The difference? Well, I ate properly yesterday and this morning, planned for the weather, paced, hydrated, used Aquaphor on all my exposed parts, and popped a Sport Bean into my mouth every 10 minutes while I was running to replace electrolytes so my fingers wouldn't swell. Oh, and you know what also? I'm back on coffee. Fuck tea!

It was 30 degrees out and windy today. I thought about running indoors but 9 miles? That seemed kind of brutally boring. I decided to compromise; I'd read somewhere that when it's very cold out it's good to run your first mile or so indoors so your body isn't literally cold while you're warming up. Helps prevent injury and I'm all about that! So, I ran 1.4 miles on the treadmill, and then did the big Loop in Central Park for 6.03 miles, adding in a supplement of one loop around the Reservoir for 1.58, to complete the 9.

My favorite part was going around the Reservoir, especially crossing at the north east end. The sun was in my eyes and the skyline to the south was breathtaking. I wish you could have been there with me. That was probably the first time I've ever wished I'd had someone with me when I was running, just to share that moment. I've seen Manhattan I think from every angle but that perspective, with the light as it was in the magic hour - I'll never forget that. Gotham was majestic and I felt like I was part of it, and home.

My new hydration belt was comfortable and fine. I went with a single 22 oz bottle that sits on an angle and can be spun around to your back. When I was shopping for it at Paragon, there were two women about my age who squealed when they saw it, "Oh that's it! That's the one John has! It's great." Until then I'd been looking at the multi-bottle belts because, well, I don't know. So, I asked the most helpful sales guy ever and he agreed it would be a good design for my needs. Then we got to chatting and I told him about my swollen fingers from last week and he seemed nonplussed, like that happens to everyone (which I know it doesn't because I've asked about 10 people and nobody had experienced it). He told me about Sport Beans.

Sport Beans are made by Jelly Belly so I was a bit suspicious frankly that they were just candy. I am constantly teasing my dear mother for downing what she calls "cough drops" every 10 minutes all day through. They aren't cough drops - they're Werther's butterscotch! But saying "cough drops" makes her feel like they are legitimate. I guess when you're 78 you can tell yourself whatever you like; but at 39, I just want to be clear, I know I'm eating candy!

The beans don't look like regular Jelly Bellies though. They're kind of misshapen, and colored with natural dyes, which is good for me since I'm allergic to yellow dyes #5, 6 and 10. To use them, you just chew one with a sip of water, or as I ended up doing because it's kind of hard to chew something when you run breathing both in and out through your mouth, I chewed it until it was flat and then stuck it like gum to the roof of my mouth, and kept it there until it melted. I marveled at their staying power - sometimes the full 10 minutes! So it is true, I ran today on a steady stream of candy with benefits!

My pace netted to a 12:32 mile. Obviously, I walked a lot. I walked almost all the hills actually. I didn't want to wheeze like I did last time and it was 7 degrees colder today than it had been when I did 8 miles. I did wheeze though and it started earlier than it had last week, around mile 6; so whenever that started I just walked.

I'm learning right now about speed training and I plan to incorporate that into my shorter "recovery" runs during the week. There are all these words to learn to understand the different strategies. Words like, splits, strides, tempo runs and intervals. "Runner's World's" super great for a newbie because they keep it really simple - and they say the same thing every month! I'm not kidding. If I had any idea what I was doing with running I'm sure I'd find it the most annoying and patronizing magazine on Earth but, at this point, I'm remedial and it's just my pace!

After running I went to the pool and ran in the deep end for half an hour and wiggled around to stretch. The lifeguard noted that I looked a lot better this week than I had last week! After the pool I hit the sauna for 30 minutes but still never managed to fully warm up. I hope it isn't so cold out next Sunday when I take on 10 miles!!!

Day 91: Marinating

I'll be running 9 miles tomorrow so today was a day of rest. Regardless, I wrote for 8 hours straight, on several different topics. It was a totally frustrating experience though because I felt I had so much to say but just never seemed to be able to get to the point, or to get to just one point, or even a few points that linked.

Every essay I drafted ended with more questions. I trimmed and cut, hacked and deleted. Here it is now 5AM and I have nothing to show for my effort.

That seems commensurate with my ultra-confusing week. I had so many things bubble up in such a short time! Work, family, friends, health, romance - a barrage of conversations that harvested an overwhelming number of new data points. Best to just throw those in a pot and let them marinate!

I wanted so badly to have some clear insights by today so that I could write and get them off my chest; but the truth is, things aren't clear yet. I have opposite and conflicting conclusions. That doesn't make for good story telling. So, I hope I'll be back on again soon but for now, the lid's been returned to the pot and we're still marinating.

Day 90: Double Stuff

Day 90 was a planned day of rest from actual running but I prepared for my big 9 mile run on Sunday by purchasing a hydration belt, headband, and some fancy jelly beans that purport to give you energy and electrolytes. I also read my Runner's World magazine and met a potential new running mentor who I have a feeling could teach me a lot.

The peculiar thing about Day 90 was that, for the first time in nearly three months, I simply forgot to write. Even though I never think much about writing during the work day, other than vaguely looking forward to it as my reward at night, it has become a part of me. I may not be a very good writer, but I am now someone who writes every day, and thus, a writer, by my own definition. What does it mean if I skip a day? What might this do to my progress?

I wonder if writing is in any way similar to running, that maybe a day of rest and recovery from blogging will enhance my overall performance in the long term scheme of things. Will tomorrow's entry pour from me with notably improved clarity, poignancy and insight? One can only hope! Cross your fingers for double stuff in tomorrow's cookies...

Day 89: It Isn't Me, It's You

Damn Nike+ piece of crap! Calibration... my ass. I just got back from the gym where I ran 4 relatively easy miles in 47:10. That's an 11:47 mile. Not terribly fast for most people maybe, but fast for me, and I'm proud I schlepped myself down to the gym tonight and I'm proud of my results. I did good. I'm on the right side of the game... My mind is running my body. Silence in the yard!

The thing is, my Nike+ logged the run at 4.34 miles, netting a 10:55 minute mile, which would, if it were true, have been a major new record for me! If I could live in Nike+'s magical universe, I'd be celebrating with flagons of protein shake and handfuls of fish oil capsules. I, however, live very much in reality. I'm a 5'1" tall girl, who apparently, if I had the leg length and corresponding stride of a tall man, would be rocking this sport in ways I just may never. Basically, what I'm realizing is, I need to work harder... to be just as good as someone else who is, as they say, less "vertically challenged." Totally unfair, but those are my apples.

Nike+ told me to "just do it" and she'd calibrate/report accurately on my stride, no matter who I am and what I look like; but that was apparently just marketing because, she doesn't. I'm sorry to say I was premature in my pardons yesterday. The assumption of responsibility was really never mine to bear... So, after further consideration, I've got a mid course correction: It isn't me, it is you!

Day 88: It Isn't You, It's Me

I ran 5 miles today, stretched, and pulled out my crescent zafu and zabaton for 15 minutes of proper meditation. I would ideally have meditated longer but since this was my first sit in months, and there's just so much time I can dedicate to unpaid activities - 15 minutes would have to do!

Before I started running today I took the time to actually calibrate my Nike+. How I completely missed that you can calibrate it for walking and for running, and enter your weight to figure out the number of calories burned, I have no idea. I sometimes get a little "dumb" about things when I'm exploring a totally new territory in life and I have some level of anxiety about it. Anxiety is a killer. When I have no anxiety, newness actually sharpens my acuity; but running makes me nervous; I don't want to fuck up and hurt myself or embarrass myself. This is part of why I am slow to catch on with what to eat/drink and wear on the track. My instincts get completely dampened by emotions like fear, hatred, discomfort and ambivalence.

So anyway, eventually I had enough people mention to me that you can actually calibrate the Nike+ to your personal stride. They gently suggested I might stop calling the darn thing names when it wasn't its fault; it was programmed to think I am a 6' tall man. I finally reset the pedometer today.

Dear Nike+,

I want to apologize. It wasn't you, it was me. I still don't like your stinkin' narrow shoes but, this running gadget? It's pretty awesome. Thanks for the love. So, are we cool, baby?

Love,
Me

Day 87: Out of Service

The day has come - the day I didn't manage to fit it all in - and I feel like crap. I made myself terribly busy at work today, catching up on loose ends and reaching out to people, starting new projects. I still managed to eat really well in anticipation of running 5 miles at home tonight on the treadmill - high protein, low fat, with a good balance of clean carbs all day through. I even bought a protein shake before work and kept it in the fridge to drink around 5pm for dinner.

I can't remember the last time I planned to do a big run at night. I was actually pretty excited not to be dashing off to a date, a class or a work event. Just time for me - guaranteed to be rewarding and knock me out for a good night's sleep. It felt like a treat! And after, I'd stretch and drink lots of water and take a hot shower... and sit around smelling all the flowers I have in my apartment right now, and write my blog... and oh, such sweet heaven!

But it wasn't meant to be. I ended up having to work late. I raced home by 9 pm, threw my clothes on and jetted to the gym with just an hour before they'd close. I was initially excited to see one of the four treadmills free; but when I hopped on, I saw there was a large sign across the dashboard that read, "Out of Service." I could feel everything inside me melt. It was the culmination of all the day's frustrations - work, personal, and now this. I wasn't going to have my peaceful hour.

I contemplated hopping on the elliptical but since I actually still have work to do tonight for the 4 meetings I have tomorrow, I figured maybe this was fate's way of gently taking care of me, at least professionally. Rescue never felt so unsatisfying! The last thing I want to do right now is open up the work laptop and stare at an Excel file; but that's exactly what I'm about to do.

When will I get my time? Well, I could try to squeeze the run in tomorrow morning but ugh, I'm still letting go of my fantasy that I was going to run tonight. Why am I so unhappy right at this moment? I feel insecure about my ability to keep advancing my running and keep all the other plates spinning. I feel like, it was one thing to run 2 miles a day, or 3 on a weekend. But 8 miles on a Sunday, 5 on a Tuesday, 21 in a week. It's just beyond my comprehension. I'm going to need to hire someone to do my laundry! My fridge has like one egg in it right now. I ate 2 rice cakes with marmalade for dinner tonight post-protein shake because I didn't want to eat pickles or chutney as a meal again!

I think I need to take a step back and breathe. I haven't meditated once since I started running in November. I used to meditate daily - not always a long sit - but a sit. Maybe that off duty treadmill was a sign. I am going to try to incorporate meditation back into my life again, for at least 15-20 minutes a day, and practice going "out of service" once in a while.

Day 86: Before and After

Despite having gotten 9 hours of sleep last night, I'm still completely knackered from having run 8 miles yesterday in the the cold rain. Fortunately, my hands are no longer swollen, and all my aches have subsided, but sheer exhaustion still lingers. I feel faintly frail; like, don't touch me too hard or I might bruise or tip over. Hopefully that will pass before I have to run 5 miles tomorrow...

Contributing to the challenge, I've quietly been eliminating coffee from my diet. I'll get into this some other time, the inner conflict saying "good bye for now" to coffee brings me, and maybe more importantly, the career conflict; apart from all this, suffice it to say, I'm simply missing my morning spike of happy. Tea is bridging the gap but it doesn't stifle the constant flashes I'm getting of my deep, soft bed with cool sheets. If I could just close my eyes for a minute...

What I've learned from this is that running not only requires planning beforehand (eating enough, drinking enough, having the right clothes for the weather) and during (blocking out enough time to warm up, run, cool down, stretch), but it also requires planning for the evening and day afterwards. I had a bunch of meetings this morning and thankfully my boss also ran a miserable lot yesterday so we could commiserate for a few minutes before starting in on brand challenges, but if I hadn't had that, it would have been a bitch just jumping into the day's work. So much planning - before and after - for something that wasn't even a part of my life less than 3 months ago! Not saying it's a bad thing. Just saying, I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

Day 85: Read My Record - 8 Miles!

In spite of the Jets' disappointing defeat today, I'd like to start with a quote from football great, Bill Parcells, who said, "You are what your record says you are." Damn straight, Bill! (And thanks to Arnold for the handoff on this quote...)

So, what's my record? I ran 8 miles today, baby! It was 37 degrees and drizzling in Central Park when I headed out and, by the time I returned it was fully raining. I wasn't quite sure what to wear but Arnold the runner (and quote giver) told me it was warm, so I didn't layer or wear a hat or gloves. I just wore compression pants and a Lululemon long sleeved top with thumb holes. One problem, I had no good pockets. The shirt had a tiny square of a pocket for my iPod to sit in, but where would I put water and chap stick? I skipped the chap stick and stuck two small water bottles into the waistband of my pants. (AMATEUR!)

The water bottles didn't make it. Before I even finished my walking warm up to the point I was going to start, they were sliding down the inside of my pants legs! I ended up tucking them into the leaves on the side of the path for later. Looks like I am going to have to invest in a hydration belt of some sort. You'd think I'd be psyched for a new gadget but, a belt? Not so much. I prefer shiny gadgets and things that taste good.

I started out with a nice strong pace. I felt calm. I thought of the Luxembourg Gardens, listened to my usual music and sang along in my head, enjoying the scenery. Then around mile 5, I started to get wicked thirsty. I was spitting a lot, and I could feel my fingers swelling into tight sausages. By mile 6, I was passing the place where I'd tucked the water so I dug a bottle out and slugged it. I fully stopped for about 3 minutes and did a series of stretches on my legs and hips, and held my hands above my head hoping to try to reduce the swelling, but to no avail. My last two miles were rough. The swelling got worse, and I started to wheeze. I'm still grappling with a chest cold and my lungs felt like they were filling; I couldn't get the oxygen in and out - kinda scary. Even so, I was excited to have just a mile left to finish the full 8 - and that kept me going.

I had to walk more than I wanted to today. Mostly going uphill and towards the end, but I kept asking myself every time I did walk - do I need to walk or am I being lazy? Usually the answer was the former. I'd really wanted to beat my speed from last week and, I did, by nearly a minute a mile, so I'm pleased. My average pace was 12:07:676 today. Sorry, after that kind of effort I'm not about to round anything up! .

This was my route: I started at West 72nd and ran east across the transverse (.3080 miles). Then I took the full loop (6.1 miles) uptown for my first time ever, and that was beautiful. At one point there was a frozen waterfall pouring right onto the path. Boys and their fathers trudged across the snow towards the skating rink for hockey practice. Ahh... New things to see! When I hit East 72nd again, I turned west on 72nd and did the Lower Loop a second time (1.7 miles). Sum total - 8.108 Miles.

Afterwards I felt an immediate and burning need for protein! I can't explain it. I couldn't even wait to get home. I stopped in on my way to the juice bar at Equinox and convinced the girl there to make me a protein shake and let me leave my iPod with her as collateral! I simply couldn't go another block without protein! My face was still frozen from running and I was shaking a little bit from the cold, so maybe she though, by the slightly slurred way I was talking, that I had some kind of disability. Any-hoo - very nice of her to oblige!

8 miles. Feels kind of major. Everything hurts now. A lot. My hips especially. I've taken a hot shower and I'm about to go down to the pool and sauna and possibly stay there forever. I ran a total of 21 miles this week, plus IntenSati, swimming and tennis. Not too shabby for, as Abby recently called me, a former couch potato! *wink*

Day 84: Luxembourg Gardens

Today is my half-sister Beth's 61st birthday. Beth is confined at times to a wheelchair, and has to lie down in bed to rest a lot. She experiences boredom, naturally, and said when she's staring up at the ceiling, she imagines a painting there and puts herself in it. I told her about my boredom with running and how my dream state hadn't been a reliable retreat recently and I didn't know what to do. She said I needed to focus on what I "really want" from all this and that my real problem was wanting too many things at once.

She's right. I do want too many things at once. I always have, and then I expect I can craft a single strategy to bring them all home in perfect unison. Problem is, I'm a whiz at this at work. If you've seen me launch a brand, you know... I function like a theatre director - very visual in my process, lording over the script, the casting, the rehearsals. I get a sparkle in my eye and people naturally follow. Then when we're in previews I call the press and stand in the wings, arms folded, nodding as the audience laughs exactly where I meant them to. The critics always say the same thing when it's over, "Innovative!" "Rising Star!" "Inspiring!" I feel good for a second... and then I'm on to looking for my next project. How many jobs have I had? This is what I do.

So I think the same should be true in my personal life - that I visualize the outcome I want and then get to work on production. But it never goes that way. In my personal life, the actors are intractable, the script gets translated into weird languages, we lose backing, the theater burns down, you name it - it goes wrong. I can't get it to all come together in any organized fashion. What do I have to do to get my devoted husband, my kids, my dog, my house, my book deal, and my perfect body to all show up on stage at once? As opening night approaches, I sense it's not coming together perfectly. Who is that annoying guy playing my spouse? I don't want those uncreative children with acne and buck teeth! A poodle! No! I said a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel! CASTING! Get casting in here right now!!!

I step back from the stage and feel overwhelmed by the circus in front of me and think - I can get out of this - it's not too late. I decide I don't want a debacle on my personal resume, so I bail - whatever stage it was at - and kick everything to the curb. As my cousin Polly would say, I dodge the bullet. The actors grumble and want severance. Stage hands call the union. I end up taking the darn poodle home out of guilt, and stare at it for years - a barking reminder of my mistake. Of course, I'm taking this metaphor way too far but you get my point. This whole system isn't working for me because fine - maybe I should dump the poodle, but the whole circus? Every time? I'm ending up with nothing.

Beth said I'll never get anything I want if I'm not willing to get out of my director's role and just be in touch with what feels good.

We brainstormed on the phone. What do I really want? What makes me happy? It came surprisingly fast and not what you'd expect. Yes, I want all the things listed above, but moreover, I want to feel peaceful - and the two things that make me feel most peaceful are flowers and sunshine. Next I asked myself what I really wanted from running. Again, it came with ease. I want an amazing, healthy body. Kinda simple. Beth said to just focus on these three most important things and trust everything that comes along after it will organically be something I can appreciate. I've got to put my elaborate picture of other requirements for happiness aside because it's simply too big to orchestrate and not realistic, fundamentally. People go for that picture all the time and they are mostly unhappy in a short pass, divorced, broken, angry, stuck and bitter. I'm not any of those things today - I am happy - and don't need to get involved in any messy systems. I can hand pick disparate parts and let the show unfold as it will, cockeyed maybe, but a good fit for me and one that can sustain itself with some of its own momentum. This all made so much sense to me. It felt like freedom.

Then she said, let's make a place where you and I can go together while you're running - a happy place with flowers and sunshine. So, I built one, modeled in part after the real life Luxembourg Gardens in Paris where I've had a few memorable afternoons. The quality of sunshine there is delightful. There are fountains, a long reflecting one, and another with boats and children in striped tops playing. The flowers there explode from carefully planned banks. They look like they could be wild, but they're not; they're ordered and varied with precision to create the perfect balance. The colors pop against a blue sky. We put a mountain with snow in the background because it was our perfect place and mountains with snow are sweet to look at. And we replaced the classic park chairs in real Luxembourg Gardens with two deep, soft loungers we could sit in and spend an hour or two just hanging out. The air we filled with the sound of birds singing and, in the distance, the low murmur of French friends in conversation.

I'm going to go to our imaginary Luxembourg Gardens tomorrow when I'm running my 8 miles. I'll sit with my sister for a bit and get some peace. We'll just admire the flowery scene and feel golden sun on our faces and not worry about a thing. We'll sip lemonade and eat croque monsieurs from a picnic basket between us. And when I'm done with my 8 miles, we'll say "see you later, sister" and I'll pack the basket up and go home. It's going to be a good time.

I've been so incredibly scared about going out there and trying for 8. I couldn't picture it on the stage in my mind, how I would pull it off with the resources I have, and what was my motivation; but now I've simplified my priorities. I'm doing it to get in shape and, along the way, I hope to get some peace. I have a date with sunshine, flowers and my sister. No matter what, that act will get a standing ovation from me and I don't think I'll want to run away when the curtain pulls for intermission. Now, I'm not scared at all.

Day 83: Butterflies

Today's a cross-training day. I'm heading off this evening to play an hour and a half of tennis. I'm technically supposed to be resting today and tomorrow in preparation for my big 8 mile run on Sunday, but I feel like I can handle tennis without getting too over-worked.

I have butterflies just thinking about 8 miles. I'm trying to remind myself I had butterflies about 7 miles last weekend, but then I did it. 8 feels like a different category though. What will I do for an hour and three quarters? How will I occupy my brain? Day dreaming can only take me so far. What music will inspire me. If I hear "Pass the Courvoisier" or "Shake Ya Tailfeather" one more time I might implode. I think I need to look into books on tape.

Day 82: How's Tricks?

Just ran 4 miles in 48:05. That's a 12:01 mile. Not very fast but I got it done.

Some days, that's all you've got. Especially in the morning, on the treadmill, with no coffee or food. I'm bored with my music. The news on the TV was bad and the closed captioning was on a serious delay. There would be a newscaster holding up a magazine with a photo of Tiger Woods skulking around his sex rehab campus... but then the closed captioning would be talking about John Edwards' love child.

I could hardly keep up with the conveyer belt. I tried staring at my necklace, zoning out, dreaming, making up stories about the people in the gym with me, thinking about work, counting my breath, counting the miles, counting my steps, counting the calories. Nothing made it easier today. I might just be running out of tricks.

Day 81: Wrecked

Today is a confirmed day of rest. Not just because it's supposed to be, but because sister is wrecked. Mushy. Pulp. I haven't felt this over-cooked since the early days of my training... and you know what? It feels strangely good. It makes me realize I can, and should, push a little bit harder than I have been. I need to incorporate cross training back into my week. Not that running has become easy in any way, but the rest of me could use an equal challenge.

Falling into bed last night was amazing. Empty brain. Too tired to worry about all the people I meant to call, or things I'd planned to do. Head on pillow and out.

Day 80: Mini Triathlon

I was a little bit stiff today after yesterday's big 7 mile run so, technically, today should have been a day of rest. I was invited to take Jolynn's IntenSati class though, the one where she kicks my butt and turns me into a whimpering puppy begging for mercy? I just couldn't say no.

On my way up to the gym I downed a high quality power bar, and a bunch of grapes and water. It wasn't the ideal dinner but, a lot better than the alternative - free almond croissants left over in the kitchen from this morning's French breakfast! I'd planned to get to the gym early so that I could take a dip in the pool and loosen my muscles up; but when I got there, I was instantly seduced by the fancy treadmills. By fancy, I mean they were made in the last decade, with TVs and course maps, and the option to choose kilometers or miles, and heart monitors that actually work. All very exotic compared to the treadmills in my building.

I ran 2 miles at 5 mph or slower and really struggled. The gym was hot and crowded, and I hadn't brought my headphones. Still, I pressed on and it got easier by the minute. I briefly thought of doing 3 miles... but remembered Jolynn had said some other time I'd taken her class that I'd better not exercise beforehand, because she wanted me to be fresh meat. I seriously recommend you follow that advice if you ever have the fortune to be in one of her classes. The lady isn't joking around; she will crush you!

After the 2 miles, I jumped in the pool for 25 minutes and did walking and "running" laps, and used the kick board. I stationed myself in the slow lane. This gym has 8 lanes, ranked by speed and (strangely) age. The slow lane had a sign that said if you're 40+ you are allowed to stand still in there and do stationary exercises! What? 40? Is that considered old age? Really disturbing.

After the pool, which felt great, I changed back into my sweaty workout clothes and headed upstairs to class. Jolynn's bf wasn't there tonight, and he usually is quite the active participant, so I felt like I had to compensate. I yelled my little heart out, and jumped around as much as possible, punching the air, doing yoga poses, losing my balance, and thanking the Universe with vigorous gratitude! When the torture session was over, I didn't even have the strength to change into pants. I just put my jacket on and went out into the night to hail a taxi... hair still wet from the pool, the rest of me wet with a salty coating of sweat.

Treadmill... to pool... to IntenSati hell... My own little triathlon. I'm going to sleep well tonight!

Day 79: Lucky Seven

I was nervous about today's run. I've never run 7 miles before in a straight shot. I had planned to do it on the treadmill, so I could track my progress and have easy access to water, the bathroom, whatever I might need to keep going. It's gorgeous out today though... sunny, 44 degrees; so I made a last minute decision to take it to the Park.

I bumped into my boss and his girlfriend on my way out. My boss is training for the Half Marathon in March. Always lovely to see coworkers when your hair is up in 7 clips, you're essentially wearing hot pants, and - as it was today - I was wearing an old article of clothing with a competitive company's logo on it! I'd blacked the logo out with a Sharpie, ghetto style, because I'm too cheap to buy something new... but it's still legible! Oy vey.

My boss said he'd run 7 miles himself yesterday, as part of his training, and he hadn't focused on his pace, just getting through it and enjoying it, and it was OK. I thought that sounded very reasonable and so decided to adopt the same strategy. What was I so afraid of? I could stop and walk whenever I wanted. I could walk the whole thing! Better to just do it than flail around worrying about it as the afternoon ticked away.

I hit the Lower Loop with the plan to run it 4 times (1.7 x 4 = 6.8) and then tack on a leg to meet the full 7 miles. I used the useless Nike+ piece of crap thing, but just for the clock, not the mileage; and the whole 7 miles took me 1:30:37. Not a great time (around 13 minutes per mile) but I'm happy I finished and didn't get hurt. Faster next time. (By the way, at the end, my Nike+ congratulated me on having run 8.39 miles; so much for Nike+ precision!)

Right now I feel completely fine, like I could go run 5 more miles on the treadmill, no problem. I didn't feel that way when I finished - I was tired then; but give me an hour and apparently, I'm rearing to go again. I've eaten a banana and had lemon water; and tonight, I'm thinking, cheeseburger... a fine reward for the passing of this great 7 mile milestone! Next weekend I'm on deck for 8 miles! OMG. Can't even think about that right now.

Day 78: Banana Dilemma

I got ruined on bananas quite accidentally when I was 17. Until then, I'd been happily chugging along eating bananas from the A&P, just like every other American kid. I thought they were fine. I used to make banana milkshakes a lot, and slice bananas into cereal, and put strips on peanut butter sandwiches. I played "telephone" with them and did magic tricks where I'd use a pin to slice them on the inside without peeling them. Bananas were my friend. Then, one day it all changed.

My parents took me on vacation to the Dominican Republic where I tried my first tree-ripened banana. It was something out of this world - so "banana" flavored, I remember thinking! The flesh was a golden yellow, with a juicy, glossy texture - not chalky like the bananas back home. The resort we were staying at would actually press the fruit and offer banana nectar shots at breakfast. It was a banana revelation.

When I returned home from the Dominican Republic, it was hard to embrace those Chiquita poseurs I found bunched up in the grocery store. I knew the pleasure of their tropical cousins. "Ersatz" was all I could think... and I was turned off.

Then when I was about 28 I tried the Atkins diet, along with my entire office, and learned quickly that bananas were to be avoided at all costs! They were Nature's most evil carb, packed with poisons that would prevent your body from going into ketosis (starvation). My conversion to the Atkins way of thinking was swift and longstanding. Every time I've eaten a banana in the last decade, I would say it's been because there was absolutely no acceptable alternative for eating. Usually, this would mean at an airport, or hotel buffet. Bananas, in my mind, were just barely a notch above cheese danish.

Now that I'm running, all I hear about it seems is bananas, bananas, bananas. They've got potassium. They prevent cramping. Put one in each shoe and you'll run faster. Do bananas have a crackerjack PR team working for them? Have they signed a secret partnership with Nike? For a white, tasteless, 100 calorie, imported item, they're just a little bit too ubiquitous! Last I checked, they were still dry, flavorless carb sticks. What's going on? Did you know, they even give them out at the end of races with the gift bags. Bananas are SWAG!

I decided to do a little bit of research on the banana, to get to the bottom of my banana dilemma. I bought a bunch and started trying to eat them, to see if they'd do anything for me. It was hard. At first, I'd manage just a quarter, then a half... Gag me! Sometimes, I'd walk around my apt with the banana in hand, nibbling as often as I could remember, just trying to get through the whole thing; but inevitably I'd get distracted, put the half-eaten fruit down someplace and forget about it. Days later, I'd find the black, rotting bit in the bathroom, or on my nightstand. They sure smell a lot nicer when they're rotting then they do when they're fresh. Quite banana-rific.

I also tried to appeal to myself with empirical support. Seems bananas are in fact above average sources of potassium and a few other minerals and vitamins - but nothing so totally outstanding. Every explanation of why bananas are so great seems to focus on their portability, or "packaging," as my marketing ear would hear it.

Since I don't really get anything about running intuitively, I've decided to just try to have faith in bananas, and embrace the trend. This morning I had a banana flavored pancake! No real bananas in there I'm sure, but it was on topic. Yesterday I bought 5 fresh bananas and managed to down one tonight while I've been writing this. I aspire to eat another banana tomorrow after I run 7 miles! Maybe even two! I hope in time that the joys of banana consumption, and the banana's great running enhancement powers, will be revealed to me.

Day 77: 5 Miles in 58:27

Had a great run today. Just 8 seconds longer than I ran the 5 miles last Saturday, with no "race day" adrenaline to carry me through! Of course, the treadmill's flat, so I had that going for me... but still, I'm psyched. I didn't stop at all for the first 3.5 miles, which I ran at 5 mph, 5.2 mph, and then 5.4 mph, increasing speed on the mile.

At 3.5 miles I stopped and walked for a tenth of a mile because I was feeling nauseous. Then I picked it back up at 5.4 mph for half a mile, and accelerate to 5.6 mph for mile 4. Mile five I felt the nausea come back hard, and had stomach cramps from drinking water, but I pushed through and turned the speed up even further when I had just half a mile left.

Close to the end I began to see black spots, so badly so that when the 5 miles was up, I missed it. I didn't fall off the treadmill though. I managed to hit the stop button and just catch myself and "wake up," and then lie down on a mat and put my feet up. I'd eaten a piece of toast beforehand, a half a banana, coffee with milk and drank water every 10 minutes while I was running... I really don't know why I had that reaction today; but it doesn't matter and I'm excited about my performance anyway so that's enough to make it worth it!

I never really got back to normal today after that. I've been tired and nauseous since, and had to force myself to eat a spicy tuna roll in the late afternoon. My next assignment is to go 7 miles. I was supposed to do that tomorrow, but in light of how I'm feeling, I may push it to Monday. We'll see.

Day 76: I Have a Dream

I'm paying tribute to Martin Luther King Jr. today. We will celebrate his birthday in an official capacity on Monday, Jan 18th, with a national holiday that I'm lucky enough to have off; but MLK's actual birthday was on Jan 15th, which is today. So, I'm paying respect by having my own little day of rest from training.

I'm thinking today about civil rights, segregation and equality. I'm thinking about how I run in Central Park without awareness of the color of my own, or others' skin; but maybe not everybody has the same experience. I sometimes see Black men and women training in my building, or outside; but if I really think about it, not that often. Is that because the environment feels different, less hospitable, if you don't look like me? Are there unspoken, unaddressed inequalities for people of different races and creeds in my community?

I don't know the answer to that question, but today I am going to think about it in an effort to understand how MLK's dream has progressed, and where there might still be opportunities today for furthering the civil rights movement - at least in one tiny part of the world I'm living in this year - on the running path.

I'm also going to think today about what MLK has given me, particularly. MLK has taught me many things about how one might look at the world and people, and how you get things done. He's also taught me that by simply having a dream, a tangible dream - no matter how far flung it may see at the time to others - and communicating it clearly, repeating it, and enrolling people in the dream with you, you might actually make real progress over time.

If you think different, which sometimes I do, not to be discouraged if others don't "get it" right away. Breaking it down into one, two, maximum three simple, adoptable ideas gives people a chance to get used to what you're saying slowly, in digestible bits, and over time. The end result might not be exactly what you had envisioned at the beginning, and like in MLK's case, you might not even be there to see things come to fruition; but passion, conviction, integrity, and persistence... waking up and putting the shoes on every day, or whatever you're trying to work on, is the most powerful way to drive towards real transformation.

Thank you, Doctor King.

Day 75: Gel Carbs

Yesterday was an adventure in sampling carbs of many formats, so when I rose very early today to get my run in on an empty stomach, I thought, why not carry on the experiment and try yet another format - gel.

I'd bought two of those runner's energy gel packs and brought them with me on the morning of my 5 mile race; but I hadn't used them, partly because I didn't need any more energy, and partly because I'd been afraid of what they might do to me. Not a good idea to try something new (e.g., peanut butter!) on race day. Also, I am very sensitive to anything artificial; and while I'd carefully checked the ingredients listings to make sure there wasn't anything I knew I was allergic to, like artificial sweetener, or yellow dye, who knows what else might have been in there that I could have had a bad reaction to.

Today seemed like the perfect moment to give one a try. I wasn't going to eat anything before I ran, and the gel pack has caffeine, so it would serve as both breakfast and coffee - a run-friendly pick me up before my 4+ mile session. I'd managed to pop out of bed with the alarm, and had every reason in the world to believe I'd accomplish my goal, so I was in a fine mood and perhaps maybe even a little excited to dip my toe in the waters of performance enhancing drugs. This could be my own little Valley of the Dolls! I was going to see "how high" was legally up?

I'd picked a flavor called Tri-Berry, which had sounded so lovely, but the taste was purely vile. I could only cope with about 1/3 of the pack, drank some water, and started running. For a few minutes, I felt nothing. I jogged, and then ran, and waited... Then quite suddenly, it hit me - a violent spike of "bad energy" coming up from my stomach, going into my chest, and striking into my heart like a roughly hewn wooden stake. Panic!

I tried to run through it, run it out... but after a mile it only seemed to be getting worse, and strangely, the muscles in my calves were knotting up in unison, in a way that has never happened to me before. I tried getting off the treadmill for a minute and stretching but, the nausea and pounding of my heart told me I had made a small mistake, and I'd better accept it immediately and just change strategy. I thought of Dr. Metzl's speech about preventing injury, and how the new runner is at biggest risk because she doesn't know when her body is giving a warning sign. I wasn't sure, but it felt like I was getting a warning sign, so I stopped. I mapped out when I'd be able to make this run up later in the week, to make myself feel better, and then hightailed it to the elevator.

Even as I write this I still feel quite nauseous and my heart continues to race. How something so seemingly innocuous could be so hard for me to handle kind of bothers me. I've been counting on being "just like everyone else" throughout this running adventure - and surely gel packs are widely used. Why must I go off now and seem different, sensitive, intolerant? Maybe I just did it wrong - and I should have waited until mile 4 to take the hit? I will have to get more information. I'm not totally giving up on gel packs but clearly, the way I did it today, does not work for me and gel carbs are off the list of "good carbs" in my book! Back to whole wheat, brown rice, chocolate and alcohol. Tried and true. Definitely, the way to go.

Day 74: Liquid Carbs

I am learning to embrace carbs because I know they are an important part of the runner's diet. Before running, I avoided them like the plague, instead favoring massive amounts of protein, which I thought would keep me full and magically build muscle without my having to exercise. (You think I'm kidding? I'm not.)

I am going to see a nutritionist soon to get the official lowdown on good carbs, but what I understand now is that I'm supposed to get about 60% of my daily calories from carbohydrates, and the good carbs to focus on are the complex ones - things like whole wheat, brown rice, chocolate and alcohol.

I think I did pretty well today. I had meeting after meeting, and was surprised to realize the food served on typical meeting platters and in chafing dishes is actually quite runner-friendly! For example, I had a bagel and cream cheese for breakfast, with coffee. There were other really good high-carb options I could have chosen from there too, like muffins, pastry, cookies and coffee cake.

Then, for lunch, the agency I was visiting brought in a huge spread from Rosa Mexicano. Sweet! More carbs! Rice, tortillas, flautas, and deep fried chips. Runner's delight! I made sure to get a good variety of the options.

After lunch, I drank Kahlua Mocha in a meeting, which was definitely high carb, and then had tea and a square of 90% cocoa content dark chocolate. I am getting faster by the minute! Good girl, Michelle.

This evening, I'm going on a pub crawl with a different agency and my boss, which is going to be the perfect opportunity to cover the other major carb food group - liquid carb. Really important to stay hydrated when you're training for a race.

All these lifestyle and diet changes take a lot of focus and hard work; but I think it's worth it. Tomorrow I'll be back on my feet again running 4-5 miles before heading to the office to yet another early meeting. I sure hope all my carb-o-loading today pays off and I have a lot of energy! OK, off now to tackle those liquid carbohydrates like I mean it. Cheers!

Day 73: Dunked

Three miles this morning in 38:44. Really didn't want to get up early and churn it out today. Woke from a nightmare that I'd been at a pool party, and a guy had, in fun, thrown me into the water, but not realizing I was holding my handbag... with all of my various electronic gadgets in it.

There was this mad scramble when everyone at the party dove in to try to help me retrieve the bits - personal phone, Blackberry for work, flip video, camera, plus my wallet, glasses, keys, cards, everything. Only my lip gloss floated on the surface past me, and I reached out to grab it. Nothing else, not a single thing, was recovered; it all sunk into oblivion to the bottom of the extra deep, Olympic size diving pool. Then I woke up.

For a minute I tried to analyze what this could all mean, hit the snooze to try to go back and create a happier resolution - but caught myself remembering, I have an early morning meeting today, and snoozing would make it impossible for me to get my full run in. Work has to come first, but that can't become an excuse not to run. I needed every minute or I'd be late.

I forced myself up, threw the clothes on, slugged some coffee and headed down to the gym. I didn't worry about my speed or time, walked a little bit to warm up, then walked again twice, but ran for the last mile at 5.6 mpg quite comfortably.

Now I'm off to my early meeting, which is being held in the PH at the Hotel Gansevoort... Oh wait! That's where the hotel's pool is located, and you can see if from the bar. My dream is suddenly starting to make sense... Must remember to stand back from the edge of the water.

Addendum: Photo attached now is of the actual hotel pool, which is far from Olympic size. Turns out it's only 4' deep at the deep end. No, I did not go in; and I left my handbag in the meeting when I went to take this photo - just in case!

Day 72: Loose in Places

Today's a day of rest. I'll be running 3 miles tomorrow morning. This is the first time I've had days off and not felt worried that the down time would take away from my progress. In fact, I've let myself enjoy not running yesterday and today - just resting, recovering, remembering and appreciating.

Normally I'd be anxious that losing a day would set me back; but I'm starting to understand that it doesn't work that way with running. Growth may be very slow, imperceptible from day to day, but over time, it's significant and real; and you don't have to give it back if you take a day off. (A month off, well then maybe you give some of it back!)

The same is true with the changes I see in my body. I haven't had any tremendous change in actual weight. I've lost about 8.5 lbs since October without dieting at all. I guess that does sound like a lot - but with all the exercise I've been doing, I might think it should be more.

The real difference isn't in the pounds on the scale, however, but in the way my body looks, and how some of my clothes fit. My friend Eileen at work told me today she can see my changing. I'm shrinking in places I've never shrunk before. It's kind of funny, actually. I've never owned a belt in my life! OK, I've owned them, because they often come with women's pants and suits, but I've never bought one separately and I've never actually used one! Like, the way I didn't understand running? I also never understood why anyone would need a belt! Why not just buy pants in the right size in the first place? Your tush and tummy hold them up! It didn't make sense.

Right now, I've got two pairs of pants which are the right length, but are practically falling down from the waist. I might have to buy a belt! I'm like a teenager coming into a body she needs to get to know and figure out how to take care of! And then there are my calves, which seemed to initially get bigger in November and December; I had more trouble zipping my boots up back then. Now though, my calves seem to have gotten smaller, and the boots zip up like butter. What's happening!?

It's funny to be in my own body, and just have to sit back and watch the show. I have no say in what gets bigger and what gets smaller. (Too bad - I might have a few suggestions!)

Day 71: Gordon Knows

I reported on 12/23/09 ("Day 53: Run Like a Girl") that I'd switched Half-Marathon training schedules from one designed by Hal Higdon, to one designed by a woman, Gordon Bakoulis. I first heard about Gordon on the NYRR site, where her schedule is featured in conjunction with the women's Half I am going to run on April 25th. Gordon is the editorial director of New York Road Runners, is the author of the book, How to Train for and Run Your Best Marathon, has been Editor-in-chief of Running Times magazine, as well as held editorial positions at Women's Day, Fitness Swimmer, Health, Working Woman, New York Runner, The New York Times, Parenting, Runner's World, Running Times, and Women's Sports and Fitness. What a sweet editorial resume!

Her running resume is even more impressive... She is an RRCA-certified coach, the founding coach of Running Divas NY, and has qualified for the U.S. Olympic Marathon Trials five times (1988, 1992, 1996, 2000, and 2004). She has run a marathon in 2:33 and a half-marathon in 1:11. Gordon is a seven-time winner of the New York Road Runners Club's Fred Lebow Runner of the Year award and has twice placed among the top 10 finishers in the New York City Marathon! That's no joke.

So, if "Bo Knows" about baseball and football cross training, then my Gordon knows about cross training writing and running! (As for me, I still know Diddley!)* So, Gordon is my hero and the perfect person to tell me what the heck I'm supposed to do on the trail because we have our feet in the same two camps. I've never met Gordon, but I went out on a limb and sent her an email asking her a question about her schedule. She wrote back and said she'd checked out my blog, and it was "great" and "really inspiring" and that she is going to keep following me, and we should stay in touch. *so flattered* We are now friends on facebook.

Anyway, I like having a female mentor, especially one who is so nimble in ways I respect. I don't aspire to be an Olympian, or a running role model in any truly athletic sense; I don't even aspire to inspire anyone. Like I've said before, I just don't like not understanding something and no matter how many intelligent, well meaning, patient people tried to explain running to me, I just couldn't get my head around it. So, this was simply something I needed to find out for myself.

Unfortunately, I don't have an avatar to send in on this journey, so it's all me, my legs, my body, doing the work, infiltrating the runners' landscape, prying open their Pandora's box of pleasures and pains. Now that I'm in their rich and mystical woodland, I see there is precious material far beyond the superficial benefits I was briefed on before I left the mother ship. I'm completing the trials they set out for me, and taking every lesson I'm given to heart. I entered as a visitor, an objective journalist, hoping to report back to my Colonel with critical intel; but keep this secret if you can, until I'm sure: things are shifting, and I am beginning to feel a desire to become one of them...

*If you were in a coma, living in a cave, or not yet born in 1989, hit the following link to understand the above Nike ad reference: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bo_Knows

Day 70: Race Results (5 Miles in 58:19)

Today's my 39th Birthday and I just ran my first official timed NYRR race, the 5 mile Fred Lebow Classic in Central Park. It's the first NYRR race of 2010, and so there was a great turnout in spite of the 25 degree weather! (But it was sunny! Not too terrible.)

My goal had just been to finish it. I've had such a lackluster week of training due to sickness and apathy. Changing my schedule and giving myself more days off, as Gordon instructs, has been really hard for me... I like keeping my eye on the ball obsessively. On and off, on and off, and I tend to lose momentum and interest. This is something I'd like to work on in every area of my life, so it's an added incentive for me to master it through running. Right now, though, it sucks! I've been anxious all week about running, what to wear, the weather, and mumbling unsupportive words to myself.

My friend Jolynn had signed up for the race in solidarity, and she also wanted to get back into the sport after having had a less than pleasant experience with last June's Half Marathon in sweltering New York City. Jolynn and I wouldn't be starting from the same corral since she's in top physical condition and targets an 8 minute mile; but just seeing each other at the start, knowing she was along the route, and then seeing her and her boyfriend Rob cheering me on from the sidelines as I approached the finish - it meant so much more to me than I could have imagined! I tend to do life... things... especially hard things, by myself. I don't want anyone seeing me struggle. I know I can't go on this way so I'm opening the kimono! Jolynn and Rob were amazing.

At five minutes to 8am, we were hustled into our corrals which had been ordered by pace. I was in the last corral, which was fine with me! I looked around and saw mostly fit people, a few people wearing jackets that said "mentor" on them, and quite a bit of incorrect clothing! The first thing you learn about running in the cold (or doing any sport in the cold) is "COTTON KILLS!" There were tons of people wearing cotton... multiple layers of cotton. Oh boy. I was bouncing up and down to keep warm, and because I had so much energy!

The first mile was emotionally brutal in a way I hadn't expected. I wanted to run faster than the crowd would let me! They were a soupy mob! Move, move! Then at about the half-mile mark when a few of the seriously remedial people had fallen back a bit, I suddenly got tired. My stomach was churning the bit of toasted wheat bagel and natural peanut butter I'd downed an hour and a half prior. I almost always run on coffee and an otherwise empty stomach and food did not feel good... Nausea, peanut butter and still an hour to go, was all I could think of.

When I hit mile 2, I felt encouraged because my pace was steady, and even though I felt highly unmotivated, I was physically fine. I took water from a station but it was frozen. I advanced my music to a better song. I tried not to wonder who all these people now suddenly passing me were... Late starters? I attempted to get into the zone...

Around mile 3, I had picked a few fellow runners to pace myself with - a girl accompanied by two trainers, and a heavyset girl who had terrible form but was pushing along admirably. I wanted to quit. I looked at people playing with their dogs along the side of the trail and longed to be with them, tossing a stick. I passed the Park exit closest to my apartment and almost veered off... Then I realized I'd soon be coming up on my beloved Stretching Bridge! Suddenly I felt motivated! I'd run to the Bridge and then walk a little...

I stopped and walked a number of times along the route and by far the worst moments of the race were when I had to get running again. The amount of energy (emotional and physical) required to "push off" was so totally not worth whatever break the walk might have afforded. I only walked up hills; I'm terrible at hills. And I only walked when I felt myself starting to huff.

At the turn of the last mile, when I saw the clock, the time shocked me. I might actually make it in under an hour! There were people lining the route with signs. One guy yelled directly at me, "Most people are still in bed right now. You are doing it!" I took that to heart and let it inspire me. I thought of picking up my pace exponentially but didn't want to burn myself out prematurely and have to walk across the Finish Line in front of my friends! When I finally did see the Finish Line in sight, I booked! And that felt amazing! I was instantly sorry I hadn't started running faster sooner. It's so much easier to run fast than it is to run slow. I don't know how that can be, but it's true.

Rob and Jolynn came to get me and they were cheering and telling me I did it in under an hour, and I was freaking out! I thought of my now super Marathon running, Triathlon finishing, Iron Man training friend Melissa who said she cried after her first 5 mile race as I myself felt tears coming; but they didn't actually come because my face was frozen! Not only couldn't I cry, but for the first time in my entire life I think, I couldn't talk! My mouth was so frozen cold, I literally couldn't say anything! I thought I might throw up for a second (yes, thanks Rob for capturing that moment on film... awesome) but then I didn't. After about 2 minutes I felt better than I think I've ever felt in my life! Running is for me. I can do this! It was easier than I thought it would be, I wasn't even tired, and nothing hurt. Yes, I hated it while I was on there - but the experience of getting through that and finishing, and being fine - I can't quite put that into words yet. It is other-worldly.

We all hung out for a little while after the race, drinking coffee and talking about running and life. I ran back home after that, checked my time online (I ran an 11:39 mile, which is my fastest "long distance" pace ever!), drank a sports drink, and went straight to the gym and ran two more miles at a pace of 11:06. (Oh dear, I must sound insane right now.) I was just so filled with adrenaline! I also missed a mile during my workout on Thursday, and was supposed to run 6 miles today (not 5) according to the schedule, so I wanted to stay on track. After the extra run, I stretched, drank water, ate a banana, and sat down to write.

I am having the most perfect birthday, ever! Hello, endorphins! Nice to finally meet you...

Day 69: My Lovely Bones

I'm in research and preparation mode... For a girl who doesn't even have a primary care physician, I'm seeing a lot of doctors these days! This time, it was Dr. Jordan Metzl of the Hospital for Special Surgery, who is a bit famous in the field of sports medicine.

I don't have an injury, thankfully, but I do have low-grade aches and pains, and was concerned I might be running on some arthritis, misalignment or other structural problem I should know about and compensate for. In the last 10 years I've watched my mother start to fall apart - a broken hip, a replaced hip, a spinal laminectomy and fusing, sciatica pain, neuropathy, and so on... I see her in pain and I sometimes get sympathetic hurts. Are they purely sympathetic, or am I actually beginning to degenerate? I've been secretly fearing the latter. I wanted to see someone who could tell me the truth.

Metzl is the kind of doctor you wish you had for every single medical problem that might ever come up. He's aggressive but cheerful, and positively amped! Before coming in to consult with me, he'd clearly taken the time to have read my chart - you know the questionnaire you fill out before you see a new doctor? Do you suffer from acid reflux, get night sweats, have gas? All kinds of data points that seem irrelevant to whatever you came in for - and even more irrelevant when the doctor finally meets you and doesn't even know your name. Not Metzl. He hadn't missed a single scribble.

So, I told the doctor why I was there, and he promptly gave me the first of many high-fives! He is an athlete's advocate and we share the same values about health, injury prevention, and an enthusiasm for active living. We also, it turns out, share a (charming?) propensity for self-promotion... He said to me, "I have a website. You can sign up and get information." I replied, "I have a blog. You can follow me." Pause. He replies, "Oh, lots of my patients write about running." I was deflated, "Oh, you mean I'm not original?" "Oh yes, you are very unique. Are you... do you... is someone..." I helped him out, "Do you mean, do I have a sponsor? " He blinked a yes. "No...I don't. Not yet!" What a dance of the egos! I was loving it! And by the way, he totally wins because within an hour of my having left his office, I received an email from Dr. Metzl himself, telling me he'd gone and signed me up to his website! Waiting for you to follow me, Dr. Metzl...!

There was great news on almost every front. My body's in perfect condition. My bones are aligned and just fine. The weakness I feel is all about lacking core strength, not about anything structural. I have no arthritis or hairline fractures at all, and my joints are looking dandy. The doctor gave me the names of two women who can support me - one, a running trainer, who will help me with form; and two, a running nutritionist, who will answer my mountain of questions like, "Why do I get nauseous? What supplements should I be taking? How do I need to be eating?" and so on... I asked the doctor why I can't breathe through my nose when I'm running and he said, emphatically, "Forget about it! Just breathe through your mouth. It doesn't make a difference at all!" So easy. Done! He also said to me that it was good I was training over a whole year - that if I'd come to him with 6 months to train he would have told me I couldn't do it; but a year, yes, with proper guidance that is going to be possible.

I have my 5 mile race tomorrow at 8am. It will be my 39th birthday and I thought starting it off with a race would be a healthy thing to do, and symbolic of the journey I'm making this year. It will be my first "qualifying" race, which means my time is official, and the race accrues against the number I'll need to gain entry to the 2011 (yes, that's next-next year!) Marathon. Tonight I went and picked up my race number and chip at the NYRR headquarters on 89th Street just off Fifth Ave. The place was teaming with "athletic" types who intimidated the crap out of me. Some of them were literally wearing running gear! I felt positively fluffy in my big black wool pea coat.

I've spent the last few days experiencing massive pangs of panic about this race... and I'm embarrassed to say, I've considered not doing it. I've been sick. I haven't been sleeping much. It's so cold in NYC. What if I can't do 5 miles again - this time outside, on a hilly course? If I do poorly, will it bring me down emotionally - and on my birthday? Will I get demotivated about running the Marathon?

I reminded myself that I felt exactly this way before the Turkey Trot, and I got through it. I also feel this way 50% of the time I even head down to the gym and fire up the treadmill! I hate to run! Ah... it feels better just to say it! I HATE TO RUN! Why am I doing something that brings me such grief? (Don't answer that. I'm just having a moment.) I just have to tell myself that if I do bomb out tomorrow, it'll be good material for writing, and it won't be the end of the world, and it doesn't mean I'm allowed to stop training for the Marathon, either... I've got perfect health and lovely bones. Forward march.

Day 68: Sole Mates

What I didn't mention yesterday was that the good doctor had seen it fit, after his thorough investigation of my feet, to take to them with a scalpel. Harriet the Spy had gotten a "Clue" about my callouses, all brand new since November 1st when I started this, and was going to return me to my naturally soft and supple state... "Harriet, in the office, with a knife..."

Nothing about what he did hurt at the time, though I noticed he went through two fresh scalpel blades and I had to wonder how many "layers" he was removing. It didn't occur to me he might be going too deep, and that I'd have any lingering after effects. After yesterday I felt maybe just a little mild tingling where he'd done the most invasive excavation; but this morning, my feet were raw and on fire at about three (uneven) points each, making running a rainstorm of piercing Lilliputian arrows.

I was supposed to run 3-4 miles but, at 2 miles - most of which I'd had to walk - I had to get off. I was too distracted and not sure if I might be doing more damage than good considering I have to be in decent condition for my 5 mile race on Saturday. I'll make the time up later this week.

I haven't mentioned the nasty metamorphosis my precious feet have taken since I started running. You hear about people getting black toenails and such, and thankfully that hasn't happened to me yet; but the general appearance of my feet has dramatically deteriorated and it's a bit much to get used to. I avert my eyes most of the time, frankly.

I've always had unusually cute feet. This is something that people, even strangers, frequently used to comment on - men especially. One even named his favorite toe, Madeline. I wear high heeled sandals in the summer so they're out there for the lookin'. This past summer, I was at a party and there was a gentleman there - actually a friend's ex-boyfriend, which was awkward enough in itself - but he may have had just a little bit too much to drink and spent the next 10 hours talking about my feet, and then sneaking in a "pet" when I was talking to people, looking in the other direction. Finally, unfortunately, because it's what broke the party up around 6am, he got down on his knees while I was talking to the hostess and licked my toes. The hostess freaked out and made her husband expel the guy from the apartment. You know, I personally don't understand the appeal of my feet but it seems they are - or once were - undeniably hot.

I've had exactly one pedicure now since November 1st and I spent the entire time apologizing to the woman doing it. For the past 5 years I have worn the same color polish on my toes - Essie's Sole Mates. I remember the day my colleague Sherrie walked into the office we shared and she was wearing it on her toes. I saw it and fell in love - that was my color - a mix of black, red and blue. I've never turned back; but then this December I switched to a pale, slightly opaque pink - Essie's Guchi Muchi Puchi - which I thought would stand up to abuse better, not chip or bleed unattractively into white socks, and might mask the white lines I've now got in my big toenails as a result of their getting beaten over and over again into the front of my shoes. Not sure I like it. I miss my Sole Mates.

I wouldn't say having had "cute feet" was ever really part of my core identity, but I'm surprised to notice myself missing that part of the way things were... I can only hope that my feet will get used to this new lifestyle and transition to a "sportier" look gracefully, eventually. If not, hopefully I'll at least have other parts that become more cute over time, to make up for this loss!

Day 67: Plaster and Paris

About 10 years ago, just outside of Paris, I first realized there was something different about my feet. I'd flown across the pond for a friend's wedding and was doing several weeks of sight seeing in France in conjunction. (This was back when I had 5 weeks of vacation a year! So civilized!)

On this particular day, we'd taken a train to Versailles and were walking from the station to the palace when suddenly, I just couldn't walk any more. I had shooting pains in my feet. Every step felt like I was pressing down on a 4" nail. I turned to my friend who had been walking as much as I had and asked if her feet also hurt and she just shrugged... Nope. My agony was real and alarming, and it felt like something serious was wrong. This wasn't just a little muscle strain. It felt like bones were breaking through the skin, and tendons were tearing. It felt like permanent damage.

When I got home I went straight to a podiatrist who told me the problem was easily correctable; I have high arches and just needed orthotics. He was right! I've had the same set of "active" and "casual" orthotics since, and while my feet do hurt sometimes when I'm running, or when I over-do it on the tennis court, mostly I've been fine. I assumed everyone had foot pain sometimes, and achy knees sometimes. Wasn't that a part of getting older? Arthritis, perhaps.

As I've been running I've been thinking about how just the slightest imbalance in my body, or the way I hold myself when I run - if it's not correct, could over time do any number of types of damage to me. It's one thing if you do low impact activities incorrectly, but, if I'm running 12 or more miles a week now, and I'm going to be doing 30 a week by the spring, well, I'd better make sure I'm not completely fucking myself up in a way I'd really regret down the line. This little experiment sort of started on a lark, but now I hope to find in it a new place to go with my energy, and would like to make it something I can enjoy for the rest of my life. I don't want to remember this year because every time I sit or stand, it hurts.

I asked a running friend for a referral to a podiatrist who could be trusted to make a good orthotic. I had a hunch feet might change over time and also was anxious to be able to talk shop properly with other running geeks. I thought I was told I pronate, but then when I read the descriptions, I wondered if maybe I'd gotten this wrong and instead supinate? I figured if I didn't have clarity on this very basic issue, there might be other more important things to know that I didn't even know I was supposed to know. Ya know? Anyway, good not to be talking completely out of my bum.

The doctor was charming and curious. He reminded me of myself when I first discovered the "Harriet the Spy" books as a kid and started slinking around the neighborhood looking for clues... I'd gotten myself an ominous, black detective's notebook and snuck from house to house making notes on "peculiar" things I observed, "Mrs. Cox home early from work. Making cookies for bake sale tomorrow? Will have to come back and sniff air in one hour..."

I'd brought my own pile of "evidence" for the doctor to examine - my two current pairs of running shoes, my old running shoes which I've had for about 3 years (which he nearly snapped in half dramatically and ordered me to "throw these out immediately" - I did), and all three pairs of my old orthotics. I was playing right into his role and he seemed to love it! He had me stand and walk, over and over, in the shoes, out of the shoes, just in the orthotics. "So much going on!" he exclaimed at one point. "I see numbers 3, 4 and 5!" What's he talking about, I thought! He was jotting things down.

Finally, "Harriet" had a diagnosis. I definitely pronate, but there's a whole host of other issues coming into play that needed to be taken into account. I also have normal-high arches (not "freakishly high" arches, which is what I distinctly remember my last doctor calling them), and finally, my orthotics are barely effective and definitely not adequate for sports. The exciting thing is, I really do feel they make a difference - as poorly suited to my foot as they may be; so the doctor assured me I would be happily surprised by what my new orthotics were sure to bring to my experience.

My mind began to bubble with excitement... Is this why I've hated running all along, or at least a big part? I simply have not been feeling what others have been feeling? They don't wobble and worry that they'll fall the entire time? They aren't getting giant unbalanced callouses on one foot? They can feel their toes? They don't have a pinched nerve in the ball of each foot? The doctor assured me my new orthotics would help compensate for all that ails me and make running a much more enjoyable experience.

There are several methods for molding orthotics out there - foam molding and plaster casting being the most popular. My orthotics from 2000 were foam molded; to make them, I stepped in a box of putty and a reverse image of my foot and arch were cast. I didn't know then, but that method isn't as reliable as plaster casting because when you stand in the putty, it's up to the patient to distribute her weight evenly and stand up straight (which apparently, I didn't). The plaster method, however, doesn't use gravity or the patient's stance at all. Instead, strips of cotton are dipped in wet plaster and wrapped by a technician around the patient's foot. Your feet are elevated for this, and when the plaster has dried, the cast is peeled off and sent to a lab where a computer with laser points reads the exact shape, capturing every arch and angle, and the orthotic is then made from that. The plaster orthotic is perfect, whereas the foam orthotic is, in most cases, just a little better than what you might buy over the counter from Dr. Scholl's, unless you managed to stand up correctly in the foam, in which case you probably have pretty good feet and didn't need the orthotics in the first place.

So, now I wait a month for the mold to go out to the lab and come back again. The doctor convinced me to go with a full foot bed, instead of a half. I have a half now and wanted to continue with the same, but he said the full will give him a chance to work on correcting the pinched nerves I have (and which I've always had, if he's going by the symptom of "clicking") at the front of both of my feet. The doctor also took X-rays, just to check for hairline fractures, arthritis and take a better look inside. All in all, I'm in decent shape! The appointment took over two hours though and the entire time I was emailing with my boss updating him on when I'd be back to the office... "My feet are currently in plaster casts," read my first subject heading which, out of context, alarmed him so much he called me! So embarrassing!

Day 66: Dream State

I just ran 3 miles in 36:12. That nets to a 12:04 mile, which is the fastest I've ever run! The funny thing is, I wasn't even going for speed tonight; I was just trying to keep an even, comfortable pace.

I've been sick for days, as you know, and today I'm still under the weather. The training schedule called for a 2-3 mile run. Usually, I take the longer distance recommended but today expected to run the 2. I don't always have to be an over-achiever.

Breaking the job up into smaller bits, I started slow and focused on completing the first mile. Somewhere along the way though, I stopped checking the stats and drifted off into a dream state. I've always had a very big capacity for creating a fantasy world for myself to escape whatever is really going on in my life that is uncomfortable or disappointing. Don't get me wrong, I know the difference between reality and my own projections, but - if a minute is 60 seconds no matter how you spend it, why not do what you can to make the best of it? When I'm in my head, I get a certain look on my face. I've seen it in photos taken of me as young as 3; it's a far away look complemented by a half-smile.

Before today, I've been so fixated on the mechanics of running (getting the oxygen in and the CO2 out, pulling my pants up, retying the laces, not flying off the treadmill) that I haven't even contemplate going to my happy place. But tonight, because the physical distractions were minor, I somehow just slipped into the zone without thinking about it... and it was good. While I was dreaming, I locked eyes with myself in the mirror on the wall across the room, and tried very hard to keep my head as steady as possible, as if I were balancing a book on it... My body became a piece of machinery, working hard, fuel pumping, compressor cooling, and a whole network of gears rotating in unison to keep my hips in line, legs moving, arms swinging. I didn't have to think about a thing. My body was running without me. I could observe it working, but I wasn't in the booth pulling the levers. I could instead turn my attention to directing an original work, being played out on some stage off to the side.

At 2.36 miles I was harshly "awakened" by a strong feeling of nausea. Argh! Why the nausea again? Nausea makes me feel like such an amateur. I had to drop the pace down to 3.2 for a few minutes so I could stabilize. Then I pushed the speed way back up to 6.2, and then 6.8, and then 7.0, and then 7.2, just because I could.

The mile I'd spent in my head had been so nice; but when I saw my time at the end of the session, I felt doubly rewarded because tonight, both story lines - my fantasy world's and my reality's - had happy endings.

Day 65: Riot in the Yard!

No exercise at all today. Sick, sick, sick as a dog. Muddled through work and had to cancel all plans for the evening.

Tonight I ate chicken soup, rye bread, frozen cherries and chocolate chips for dinner. (Take notes - this is a professional's diet.) Then, I watched two episodes of "Mad Men" - all about sex, smoking and deliciously convoluted social politics. (Perfect character building for the athlete in training.) And now, finally, at long last... I'm giving up and going to bed!

I hope I can sleep tonight. Last night I only got about 4 hours because I was so uncomfortable, tossing and turning, sipping hot liquids, refilling the humidifier, smelling eucalyptus oils and blowing my nose. Hot stuff, I'm telling you.

I hope I can recover quickly now. I have a big 5 mile race in the Park on Saturday and I really need to be rested and well for that. I guess this is one occasion when my body's in charge and my mind is just going to have to sit back and wait for the tempers to cool... There's a riot in the yard and headquarters can't do a thing about it. (Sorry, General Patton.)

Day 64: (0.5+) 5 Miles in 1:01:14

I inspired myself today. I wasn't even sure whether I'd be able to run. I've been sick with a chest cold; but I was really determined to get well by today so I could do my big 5 mile run - the longest distance I'd have ever gone.

I've been self-medicating with tons of water, hot tea, ibuprofen, Doctor Kessler's Vapors, and a homemade soup with magic powers. The soup's this sort of Thai variation on Jewish chicken soup that I concoct. It contains chicken stock, fresh roasted chicken, baby spinach, funky Chinese mushrooms, a whole head of roasted garlic, three additional fresh cloves of minced garlic, two tablespoons of spicy Thai chili paste, a tablespoon of coconut butter, coconut powder, lemon juice and frozen shrimp in their shells. Also, if you can, you should add fresh ginger and scallions but I simply couldn't leave my apartment yesterday to go buy some. Anyway, the soup did its magic and got me well enough to strap the shoes on.

I went down to the gym in the afternoon, hoping to run at least 3 miles, and then see how I felt. Since this is a chest cold, my breathing's impeded. I had no idea what to expect and I didn't want to reverse whatever progress the soup was making on my overall recovery! I warmed up for half a mile by walking and then restarted the machine, which only allows a maximum of 60 minutes before it goes into cool down mode. I knew I'd never finish 5 miles in 60 minutes and so assumed I'd have to start the machine over again sometime before the end.

After 1.6 miles of jogging, I was red and nauseous. I was running next to a friend from the building who was in the process of speed training at 8.2 miles an hour. He saw me struggling and told me to put the fan on high, and also suggested I make smaller goals like 3 miles. (He gave me all these instructions by the way while running at 8.2 miles an hour! Are you kidding? While I'm about to barf on myself at 5.2 mph.)

The short-goals strategy worked and then I got nauseous again at 3.6 miles. Funny thing was, my stupid, incorrect, piece of crap Nike+ thing was telling congratulations I had just half a mile left to go when in reality, on the treadmill, I wasn't even at 4 miles yet. Lies! So that thing just doesn't work at all and when I went to hook it up tonight to the Internet, the Nike site was down and all my information was lost anyway. One gadget I guess that was purely a waste of money. Oh well; I tried!

Mile 4 was the easiest. I ran at 6.2 most of the way and then walked and started again a few times until I realized if I ran really fast, I might make it in just over 60 minutes! I ran like the wind! I just couldn't believe I was going to finish the 5 miles at all, let alone at a respectable time! In the end I needed just over one minute more to finish, but please - I'm thrilled! I burned 600 calories in all and I don't think I've even eaten 600 calories yet today! Guess I should make something for dinner now that my liquid garlic infusion is all gone! Hmm... what do I want to spend 600 calories on!? It's like shopping. I could get into this.

After working out I stretched a reasonable amount and then put on a bathing suit and sat in the sauna and roasted myself for 30 minutes. Bad, sick, congested sweat poured out. When I emerged I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and thought for a split second it was someone else - my body has changed that much already; maybe not so perceptible to someone who doesn't know me well - but to me, it's major. Awesome!

Day 63: Flaming Expectations

Good news: I've exited the cave of doom I penned from yesterday. I guess I just needed a little time to study all the possible outcomes of this new year and fully embrace the power of chance. When you choose to be interconnected with people and the world, it's a dangerous proposition! You never know what's going to unexpectedly trip you up; but then you also never know how the road may rise up to meet your footfall. So, it's a gamble, and I allowed myself a day to be sure I was ready to enter the old casino again.

What I didn't tell you yesterday was that on New Year's Eve I'd concocted a terrible "Resolutions" exercise that backfired mostly on me. I got it in my head that resolutions tend to be really superficial and limiting, versus tools to get us moving in a new direction and expand our experience. Saying "I'm going to get in shape in 2010" totally misses the point. The truth behind that is, I want to feel alive again and know my power; and then drill down even more and you'll see that what I really want is to be able to drop into a split without stretching, like I still could when I was 25, and I want perkier boobs. If you don't get to the heart of things, you end up diligently walking on the treadmill for a year and wondering why it's so damn unsatisfying.

I just wanted to know what I really wanted; and I figured everyone else did too.

So, before the stroke of midnight I produced a stack of blank 100-page books and colorful pens and gave out instructions on what to do... Write a resolution or wish per page, and keep going until the end. Who knows, I explained, maybe you don't really want to get a promotion this year; maybe what you really want is new shoes? Wouldn't it be good to find out? It's a lot easier to buy new shoes... There was a mixture of grumbling and eye rolling. "They're going to thank me tomorrow," I thought, self-righteously, and picked up my pen.

I started with health. We all did. That's what you're supposed to do, of course. Then I got to career, family, friends, romance, running, blogging... blah, blah... Around page 60, things finally started to get interesting.

I didn't actually finish until the next day. I read the book over a few times and took it all in. I wanted a surprising number of disparate things, some seemingly impossible to achieve and others so accessible I could accomplish them by placing a few online orders that very afternoon. Where to start? How to sift through and prioritize? Which of my goals were most worthy? If I did everything on the list, would 2010 be the best year ever? What had I left out? Maybe knowing myself wasn't such a good idea after all. I'm complicated!

By the end of the day, I was a wreck. "Why so melancholy?" people kept calling and asking. I had a cold brewing and blamed that. Eat kimchi! Drink cucumber juice! Rest! Are you running today? You're really going to have a great year! Nothing anyone said could move me. I was wrapped in blue. A guy sent me a link giving me choices of blue variations I could pick from, demanding that I at least be creative about it I were going to get lost in a color: Check out: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Category:Shades_of_blue

None of it touched me. I kept staring at the book.

Today I put an end to my azure cast by doing something rash! On impulse, I took the book to the gas burner and lit the damn thing on fire! I've never done anything like that before but have seen it done in movies. What you don't get from the movies though is how instantly, alarmingly bad a burning book smells! I'd disengaged my smoke detector but I'd forgotten I have neighbors. I managed to sear three sides of the book and the back flap sizzled off before there came an urgent knock at the door.

I rushed the book over to the sink and doused it with water. I live next to a celebrity who is in LA most of the year and she and her producer husband are always very nice to me when we cross paths in the hall. Celebrities are the quirkiest people on earth; so I've never bothered to make any attempt to hide my own quirkiness from them and in that moment I found myself secretly wishing it would be they at the door - who else would have the creative wherewithal to comprehend a real live book burning? I screamed back, "Just a minute!" as I pulled myself together, and then cracked the door open a foot and poked my head out crazy neighbor style, hair up in a greasy ponytail to complete the character sketch. Even for me, this was pretty over the top!

"Hi! Happy New Year," I chirped, as if maybe she'd come by to tell me there was a sale at Barney's... pretending there wasn't a wet, charred book dangling from my hand... "I smelled fire," she said, eyes darting down at the culprit. I took a deep breath and explained my terrible experiment, and how I was trying to put expectations for 2010 to bed, and... She burst out laughing and reached out to shake my free hand. "That's awesome! ...better crack the window open, though," and I turned around and saw she was right; the place was filled with smoke. "Happy New Year," we both said again and then she and her husband went into their apartment giggling.

Scaring the neighbors aside, the book burning was the way to go. Bye, bye expectations! I feel so much better right now.

Today is a day of complete and total physical rest. I've been fighting a chest cold for two days and if I can just keep myself in check when I go out tonight, I think I'll be all better tomorrow; or maybe I won't go out. I think I might go and get a massage this afternoon. I will be running 5 miles tomorrow - a proper 5 miles on the treadmill - and I know it's going to be challenging but I am excited to kick off my first big run of the new year. How's it going to be? I have no idea, baby - zero expectations, remember?

Day 62: A New Year (309 Days Until the Marathon)

It's Jan 1, 2010 - the start of a new month, a new year, and a new decade. The training schedule calls for a day of rest today but, of course, since it's the first of the month, and I'm a superstitious critter, I had to go off book and do my five mile walk with Allison. Our trek through the Park was lovely - much nicer than my run last night! I'm quite sore today and I have a chest cold brewing. I also feel a little bit melancholy.

All that rah-rah new decade stuff last night put me on my guard. I have so many hopes and expectations for 2010. Everyone keeps saying this is going to be a great year! I hope so; but it's also going to be a real year. There may be immeasurable joys - I hope many, many - but there will also inevitably be sadness, pain and disappointment. Building up too many positive expectations is a surefire prescription for disappointment, and might not let me appreciate whatever good surprises arise; so I want to be careful to walk that fine line between visualizing the results I want, and staying awake in the moment to the real experience I'm having.

With that in mind, I look forward to continuing to train for the Marathon. I can visualize myself crossing the finish line, but already the context in which I cross it has changed several times in my fantasy. I guess, I will just have to let the year unfold as it will and see what happens on November 7, 2010.