Runnin' Down a Dream

I'm still running down a dream. Coincidentally, that's another of the songs on my running mix that really gets me going. So far this week I've clocked about ten miles.

A long 4.5 on monday, impressive considering the shoddy start to my week. I logged these miles on the treadmill at the gym, because it was rainy out. It was boring and all of the numbers on the machine really weren't good for my neurotic tendencies. Running on the treadmill has several drawbacks. First, I really get a sense of how slow I actually am. Second, it's surrounded by mirrors, which I can't ignore (and it's not like I look good). Third, I immediately feel as though I must compete with the pace/time/calorie count/ of the runners on either side of me. Fourth, I'm not getting anywhere. Fifth, my excessive sweating is on brightly-lit display.

Of course there are benefits as well. I run faster on the treadmill. If I feel like running a ten-minute-mile, all I have to do is bump the thing up to six mph and hang in there. I can see how many calories i'm burning, which isn't actually that important to me, but at least when i'm running nowhere I can derive some sort of satisfaction from knowing that I just eliminated a hefty chunk of the day's caloric intake. Other than that...I guess it's easier on my joints than the esplanade is. Mmmm, esplanade.

I took tuesday off, and made wednesday a really easy short run (because I was pressed for time), compensating by climing up and down the six flights at home at least ten times for the sake of the laundry.

Wednesday night I went to the screening of The Savages, and afterward listened to three incredible actors and a magnificent director talk about their craft in a way that made me so joyful I cried. The words and phrases the used, and the passion with which they expressed themselves was so akin to the way that I feel and articulate that it took my breath away. And then I said to myself "I can't keep working this bread job". I can't keep doing something that keeps me from doing the something I came here to do. Do you follow? Then I went to P.J. Clarkes and ate a delicious sit-like-a-stone-in-my-belly bacon cheeseburger. Effectively negating at least a week of training.

Tonight was another good jag at the esplanade. Did I just say jag? Who does that? Jesus. My blood sugar must be low. Anyway, 4 miles or so today, and not quite as cold as my last long run outside. OH! And my new baby ipod is here! It was MUCH better to run with. I'm still enjoying my new mix, interspersed with lots of Christmas music (Run DMC's "Christmas in Hollis" really gets me going).

This leads me to my desperate plea. Dear friends, please oh please, send me music to run to. I don't care how you do it - a cd, a playlist, a comment with "hey, put [insert track here] on your running mix", anything. I find that once my body realizes that it can keep moving, it's really the songs that keep me from stopping. So, help a sister out. Send me some love, via Sly and the Family Stone, or whatever it is that works for you.

Please? Thank you.

Training Update

It seems that this blog is probably about to take a major turn. No longer the forum for discussion of my romantic failings. Lesson learned there. Apologies rendered. Ego bruised. (Coincidentally, this blog will also be moving to a strictly by-subscription basis. I know of a few regular readers who will be able to access the blog. If there are others out there who wish to be subscibers, please make yourself known.)

I would, however, like to use it as a way to document my successes and failures on my journey to a marathon (and just to success in general). My major guidance thus far has come from a clever little book, The (Non) Runner's Marathon Guide for Women, by Dawn Dias. I find her story of undertaking this training, and her biting sarcasm to be incredibly similar to mine. And it's really helpful to know that I can do this and not actually die. She did. Her most vehement suggestion is to regularly journal or blog to record your progress and experiences with the run. Everything, from distance, to shoes, to ipod programming is worth noting. So, here we go. I promise, my sarcasm and self-deprication will not disappoint.

This week I ran eight miles. That's not much, but since I only ran twice this week, I think that's saying something. My first run this week (and actually in several weeks) was my Thanksgiving Day 4-miler along the East River Esplanade. This was my first foray onto this particular path. It's much less of a trek from home than the park, and a nice option to have for an outdoor run. Thanksgiving day in NYC was lovely this year. It was a comfortable, sunny sixty degrees, and i ran in sweatpants and a tee shirt. The sweatpants turned out to be far too baggy. I won't be doing that again. In fact, if I have the chance to run in sixty degree weather again anytime soon, I'll be doing it in shorts. I think I must have been enticed by the concept of the pockets in my sweatpants...and the fact that I definitely hadn't put razor to leg in more than a fortnight.

I'm consistently finding that the most difficult part of my run is the first half-mile or so. No doubt this will change as mileage increases, but for now, it's definitely the getting started that's the hardest part. I inevitably feel like I'm going to have to turn around and pack it in for the first five to ten minutes of the run. Also, I am happy to report that I might be well on my way to setting a new record for "world's slowest runner". Seriously, I walk faster than I run. I think I might be doing it wrong. I need a coach. I entertain the idea of a running buddy, but then realize that finding one as slow as me might prove problematic. Perhaps I could pitch a reality show to VH1 about it. They'll make all manner of crap into a televised competition. And really, I think my journey from couch to finish line is far more interesting than anything they're cooking up on A Shot at Love, with Tila Tequila. Who is that tiny bisexual, anyway?

So, anyway, Thursday's run went pretty well. My only major complaint being that I have grown tired of the playlist I've been running to. Also, it was the only time on Thanksgiving that I actually came in contact with other living, breathing human beings. Had I not left my apartment for this run, I would have gone the entire holiday without seeing another living soul. I am thankful for my little Turkey Trot. I wasn't even terribly sore on friday. A little strained in the legs at work, but definitely not debilitatingly aching. This probably means it's time to up my mileage. Or my speed. Or my skill.

I took friday off, opting for a big Italian dinner and wine at Bar Pitti, followed by a late night showing of I'm Not There at the Film Forum. Both were delicious. And I think that you're supposed to do that anyway, right? Give the muscles a day to rest and rebuild, right? Eat tasty pasta and Italian deserts, right? Right.

Today was a full day at work until 5 or so (oh, the Saturday horror), and then upon my return home, a preparation for another run. Major difference between Thursday's run and today's...about thirty degrees. Sweet Lord, did it get cold here. And let me just say, this drop in temperature in combination wtih my stubborn idea to become a runner has led to some fashion...douche-baggery...of epic proportions. I fear that it shall only get worse as the temperature begins to drop. Let's just say, this is the first time in at least fifteen years that I have left home with my head completely covered by a tuque. (See that Canada word there, we call them toboggans where I come from. I know it's a sled. It's a hat too. Fuck off, Yankees. Wikipedia recognizes my jargon.)

I also left home with triple layers under my puffy vest, legwarmers over my socks, and new patagonia yoga pants - fold down waistband folded UP to keep my tummy a little warmer, and my everyday gloves. The run was actually even better than Thursday's. Same route, but this time, after dark, and with the full moon bouncing whimsically off the swirling black water. I could see all the way down the island, bridge by lighted bridge. It was really beautiful. There are a couple of folks a little upset with me at about the half-mile marker. I'm assuming based on sheer location, that these angry beasts are my ovaries. I don't know what else it might be. Something in the general vacinity of my lower abdomen doesn't appreciate this cold-weather jarring. Neither do my knees, or my left arch. My ass is okay with it, because it was immediately numbed when I stepped outside, and never regained feeling for the duration of the run. Really.

My ipod is not okay with the repeated jarring either. It's frozen up consistently on all of my outdoor runs. This is going to be remedied in a couple of days when my new shuffle arrives in the mail. Yep, a black-friday online special on the little devil was too good to pass up. And my big daddy ipod will thank me for the minor expenditure. I was hoping to hold out until christmas, but I think this will be a much better idea. The best thing about tonight's run, I must say, was a new running mix (thanks, Max), full of things that I couldn't predict. Several songs made me burst into full out sprint, the first one being the Chili Peppers "Can't Stop". That's actually what snapped me out of my normal shitty first half mile. Thank God.

This first cold weather run did give me a whole list of things that I need to aquire to make this whole thing run more smoothly. Pun intended.

1. Expertly fitted shoes. These have treated me well for over a year of cross-training, but they aren't the right shoes for me to be running in. I don't know which shoes are. I need to go to a store that caters exclusively to runners and get this really figured out. It's going to be a big expense. I'm going to try to hold out on this until after Christmas too, but my joints might not allow it.

2. Running tights. That's what they call the spandexy leggings that you wear while running. They're warm.

3. Layers of moisture-wicking fabric. Cotton thermals are no good. Although I wasn't aware of my sweating until I returned home and began to shed layers, I think there's a better way to do this. Also, things with key pockets are...key.

4. Some kind of lame specially for runners tuque. Toboggan. Aforementioned moisture wicking material.

5. Camelbak. Longer runs will demand that I actually take in some water.

6. these nifty earmuff/headphone things i saw in the sharper image catalog at work. for something like thirty five bucks, you can have warm ears and hear your tunes. i became a bit alarmed tonight when my sweaty headphones began to shock the inside of my ear.

7. a stopwatch and pedometer. preferably combined. something that tells me how far and how fast. or slow.

8. someone who knows what they're doing to oversee me doing what i'm doing.

9. more time in the day.

I'm exhausted, and feel TB settling in, as a result of breathing arctic air while panting my way down the esplanade. I like that word.

Running Away

I've expressed my overwhelming desire to run away to all of my nearest and dearest in the last few weeks. I have this staggering feeling that life would be much better if I would just disappear, stop worrying about whatever my problems are here in the city and escape for awhile. This desire is partially fueled by the fact that I just can't seem to get a handle on the mess that has become my life anymore. It is partially fueled by a film I saw last week, Into the Wild, which I believe is being released this friday. Please go see it. It is beautifully directed by Sean Penn, acted by Emile Hirsch, and sung by Eddie Vedder. I highly recommend it. During the q&a after the film, Sean Penn, while speaking about the journey of the main character said, "in our culture, rites of passage are seen as a luxury. They're not. They're a neccesity."

I couldn't agree more. I don't feel that I have lost out on that experience in my life. On the contrary, I feel like I have done it several times, and at the culmination of each experience, I have emerged a more complete human being. These events occur, sometimes in solitude, sometimes in connection with others, but ultimately bring me to a new level of understanding. I feel that I just completed one, in fact. It wasn't neccesarily a triumphant completion, but I do feel that I have just learned something new about myself and the world - something that I could only have learned through trial and error, love, hate, joy, happiness, pain and loss. These are all critical elements. The bad makes the good better, and all that sort of thing.

So, I'm off on a new soul-search. It seems physically running away from my life in New York isn't truly an option. Financially, it is completely infeasable. It would also result in the abandonment of several relationships and endeavors that I don't feel I can or should walk away from just yet. So, I've decided on a different course of action. I'm taking up running. I've run before, yes, but this seems like a more spiritual decision than my past "I feel fat, I guess I'll go running" state of mind.

I have decided that I really like the idea of training for a marathon. I haven't the slightest idea how to begin this plan. I've never been a serious runner, in fact I used to absolutely HATE running. I don't come from a family of runners, I come from a family of smokers. I don't have the best knee or hip joints, due to my dancer's upbringing. I used to be rather big and fat, owing to my lack of experience in this field. However, now I am small and thin, and feel such a difference in my stamina and ability. I can easily (ok, not TOO easily), run the track at the Onasis Reservoir (1.58 miles) without stopping or walking. I know that doesn't sound like much to a "real" runner, but it's a big deal for me. I get around that track in about 15 minutes, although, I've yet to aquire the acoutrements to really time myself. I suppose that will be one of the next steps. I actually enjoy this running. I feel like I'm getting away from something I don't like in my life, I feel like I'm releasing good energy into the world, I feel a sense of accomplishment.

So this is my plan, my next rite of passage. The New York Marathon is in early November of each year. I don't for a moment delude myself into thinking that I could run this year's marathon. However, I would really like to train for a year and shoot for running in the 2008 race. Is this too steep a goal for me to achieve? I think not. I mean, I've managed to achieve some pretty remarkable things in my life, just because I told myself I would.

So that is the goal. Running away from this feeling of unhappiness, of a loss of direction. Running. Just running. Probably needing a great deal of help along the way, but that's true of every rite of passage. And who knows, when it's all over and done, perhaps I will have learned something very valuable. Might as well start now. I'm certainly not getting any younger.

"Baby this town rips the bones from your back
Its a death trap, its a suicide rap
We gotta get out while were young
`cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run"