Monday, April 1, 2013

In which I return to my happy pace

My neighbors must think I'm nuts. (They're right.) When most normal folk are putting an extra leaf in the table, recruiting chairs from every room to seat all the Easter guests and heaping ham and scalloped potatoes onto their plates, I left my kids inside with PB&Js and Mario Cart so I could run up and down the quarter mile long street. Back and forth for nearly an hour, hobbling along in my turquoise shorts, trying (and failing) not to sing audibly to The Fighter.

Give me scars. Give me pain. Then they'll say to me, say to me, say to me, there goes the fighter. (Insert triumphant visual of me crossing the marathon finish line sub-3:30, somehow still energetic and exuberant enough to jump and leap toward the crowd of adoring hometown fans. Hometown still TBD).


Or in my case, there goes the fighter crazy lady with the running form of an overgrown mid-tantrum toddler.

I chose to cut way back on the miles these past two weeks to nurse an IT band flare up. It was a perfect storm for going batshit crazy. No running. Family "vacation". Lots of driving. Lots of standing around at a overcrowded germ-infested playground disguised as a science center. Lots of listening to Born to Run on audiobook, all the while NOT running. Did I mention the part about not running?

I'm happy to say I survived the endorphin withdrawal without figuratively beheading any member of my dear family. And I really enjoyed Born to Run. It was entertaining, inspiring and thought-provoking. The book left me thinking a great deal about the joy found in running. So much so that I decided to incorporate smiling into my overgrown mid-tantrum toddler running form. Which brings me back to the reason my neighbors might have concluded I'm certifiable.

In other news, I played a super fun April Fool's joke on myself. I told myself since I had to scrap plans to race a half marathon next week (due to low mileage, a cranky quad/knee/hip, and a family vacation), I should just run a marathon in 8 weeks. Why the heck not, right? How hard can it be to squeeze in 16 weeks of training in half the time, while starting with a baseline of a not-quite-resolved overuse issue and two weeks of the lowest mileage I've logged in over a year?

Yeah, Self, that was a good one. You almost had me.

Happy Easter, happy April, and happy trails to you, my friends.

5 comments:

  1. Did you ever see that episode of Friends in which Phoebe runs through Central Park with her arms flailing all joyously and such? Then Rachel does it too, I think? I love that one. Your description of yourself reminded me. :)

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    1. Yes! I totally remember that episode!! I think I might be slightly more graceful than Phoebe. SLIGHTLY. :-)
      p.s. Rock on, NLS class of '93.

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  2. Oh my word, that's me, Heather EO. Apparently I'm logged in under my high school reunion site. Hilarity.

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  3. UGGGGGHHHHHH, being patient through injuries is totally balls. (I guess that's twice now. I'm making balls a thing on your site.) I like the part where you're smiling, though. Smiling's definitely not balls. And so is being able to run at all (something I newly appreciate).

    You're not really doing a marathon in eight weeks, are you? I mean, I'm sure if you do it will be a not-insane thing to do (like me running a half two weeks ago after I hadn't run more than 5 miles in 6 months). But you know, I'm totally planning for June 2014 in Alaska. In a fantasy-not-at-all-based-in-reality kind of way.

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  4. I can totally relate. I've been know to do strange little running laps in the oddest places.
    jenolan caves I ran up and down a dirt driveway in our campsite. The fellow Jenolan visitors must have thought I was nuts. But I was just trying to stop myself turning into a nut!

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