Time on My Feet

Two for two this weekend. The thrill of having done it pays for itself. After a tumultuous week of poor health, I got myself to Central Park at 8:30 a.m. on Saturday for a group run in below 30-degree weather. I started taking antibiotics and steroids this morning for my upper respiratory infection on an empty stomach and just hoped for the best.

I gave a "mission moment" that was more moment than mission since I was surrounded by at least 100 other runners bundled up, freezing and looking desperate. I'm going to send out a welcome/mission message tonight try to make up for a missed opportunity. How inspiring can you be when your audience is bouncing in place to keep blood pumping into numbing toes?

I was brief. The coaches were not. The coaches described the run options--2 or 3 miles for beginners or half marathoners. I figured I'd be lucky to get through 2 miles since my chest felt heavy and my throat was raw. As we trotted out to the 72nd Street transverse, we started to pair up naturally, Noah's ark style. I found a running partner in Maria. It was good to make a friend both for the company and the encouragement. We agreed on everything: it's so easy to gave up in the first mile when it seems as if the road ahead is endless. (For those of us who run v e r y s l o w l y, the road is longer than for the hares who seem to hop from mile to mile in half the time.) We talked about how doing this--the training and the event itself--is a mind game and agreed it was a matter of staying focused on the goal. I've got to muster as much determination as I can now, when my resistance is highest. Running outdoors and having someone to chat with really make a difference. Scenery and conversation is a welcome reprieve from the hassle I give myself. When we got to the turnaround point for a 2-mile run, I said let's try to get to 3, which we did plus some. My chest hurt for the rest of the day, but it "hurt so good."

Sunday
Got myself to the gym with the promise of a Pilates class before I had to face the marathon training schedule mandate: 3-4 easy miles. The class was cancelled, so I had no choice but to find a treadmill and get started. None available, so I went to the ellipticals, but got faked out by a modified stair stepper thingee. I didn't realize it didn't have the arm poles and I didn't want to do a half hour without any upper body benefit. Nonetheless, I started warming up with an "interval" workout while I waited for a treadmill. Five minutes into it, I was bored and annoyed that only half of my body was moving. I had to bargain with myself to do at least do 10 minutes worth of this nonsense. I managed to do a full half hour, but 5 begrudging minutes at a time.

Then I hit the treadmill. I began by arguing with myself over everything: the distance, how long it will take, the tedium (James Brown, Lipps, Bruce Springsteen notwithstanding), the whirring fan, the relentlessness of the mirror, the unfairness of lower legs heavy with lymph, the annoying gal with the easy body--a flat chest and regular legs--running obliviously next to me, the annoying guy on the other side of me who seems to be on a perpetual runner's high. I got myself through it by making deals ("just another tenth of a mile till..."), ignoring the mirror and running in intervals between 5.1-5.3 mph, walking briskly about 20% of the time.

A mere 37 minutes later, I'm relieved that I did it. I made it through another 3.4 miles on the treadmill. How do people do this? Maybe I'll feel good about this process when I can look back on the week that started yesterday and see that I've done at least 3 runs and logged at least 12 miles. Maybe it will work to just imagine feeling good having spent all that time on my feet. It worked today.

Yesterday's mileage: 3.5
Today: 3.4
Miles to date: 12.1