Wednesday, December 24, 2008

'Out of Shape'

Stephanie is a runner. I am not. I should have remembered that distinction when she told me she was 'out of shape.'

Definition of Stephanie, the RUNNER:
She has run in multiple marathons. She qualified for the Boston Marathon in 2006. Two weeks after she ran that race, she pushed me along during my second half marathon. She ran in a half marathon while she was pregnant during her second trimester. Walking during a race is admonishing to her, and she loves the feeling of passing people while she runs the course. She looks forward to reading Runner's World every month, trying their recipes and practicing their tips.

I recognize that those are intense standards by which to determine whether someone is a runner. By those standards, most people who run may never actually be classified as a runner, as it takes constant training, skill, and a certain mania to actually run fast enough during a marathon to qualify for Boston. However, when I say I am not a runner, I am not using those standards to make the judgment. I am using reality.

I completed my last race (prior to the Celtic Soltice) in April 2007, a half marathon with most of my college friends (to whom I refer as the Great Eight) in Nashville. I signed up to run the Nike Half Marathon in New York City that same year in August, figuring I would just continue to train from where I was. Even with a paid commitment to participate, I couldn't muster up enough motivation to train seriously, and I talked myself into painful knees as a viable excuse for my laziness. Sometime in July of 2007 was the last time I laced up and ran for a reason other than avoiding a missed train or plane.

I have thought about running. I went so far as to keep my running shoes outside of storage. The shoes and gear even made the cut to come to Florida for six months. But I never wore them, and I even managed to leave them behind when I returned north.

When I arrived in Baltimore, Stephanie told me that she was out of shape. In the prior three or four months, she said she hadn't run more than a couple of miles at a time and it wasn't a common occurrence. Sure, it hadn't been 18 months (or even close) since the last time she ran, but her body had been through a lot more than mine. She convinced me that we might be on a close(r) playing field now if we ran together.

HA! We both overestimated where I would be when I started running again. Everyone knows you don't just magically fall back into shape after 18 months of sitting on your ass, eating horrible diets, and justifying a mile walk at a 22 minute pace as exercise every couple of days. My heart hadn't done an aerobic workout in over a year and it was paying me back for my slothful behavior. Out of shape I am, and to think about what it will take to run 10 miles in April is painful. It's a good thing I have Stephanie with me.

Today's Run:
Time: 22 minutes
Place: Parents' Treadmill
Distance: 2 miles
Feeling: Not fun at all (why did I think this would be easier?)
Overall grade: D

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Still Stumbling, 18 Months Later

Obviously it has been a long time since I last posted on this blog. When I posted back in August 0f 2007, I had just quit teaching. Never did I suspect that 18 months later I would be where I am now... with markers neither as grand nor depressing as they could have been. Perhaps in the posts to come, I will write more about the experiences and memories of these last days. Some fantastic stories lie within.

But, for now, I will use this as a log as I continue to stumble through a path uncertain when everything inside of me tells me that I should be more defined. To keep me rooted (and writing), my base will be my training. I have signed up for the Cherry Blossom Run in Washington, DC. It's a ten miler, about eight miles longer than I actually enjoy running.

To be fair, to myself and you, my readers, I have completed races before. In the last six years, I have participated in three or four, including two half-marathons. After each one, coincidentally, I swore off running completely. The idea of the race is always better than the actual preparation... and because the idea has a half-minute shelf life, the race is never as fun as it could be. I have always finished the races I entered, but never with great times or particular grace. I get the medal... and that's about it.

Today, on the promise of a delicious brunch of salmon eggs benedict and freshly squeezed orange juice, I completed the 5 mile Celtic Soltice Run in Baltimore... It deserves an entry to itself, as it went against several conditions I once held about running. I never would have signed up for the race if it weren't for Stephanie. She is a force to be reckoned with, my current 'supporter housing' and one of my closest friends. Steph loves to run, and so I grudgingly have been running too...

The race was OK. I completed it and the hills that went with it. I didn't finish last.

My goal for the Cherry Blossom--I want to say I ran it. I have used 'completed' to describe every race because I always end up walking. Like I said, I hate the preparation so I am never quite as ready as I should be. I am well aware of what my body can handle. I have yet to be excited or to be part of the numbered crowd on race day--I know it will be painful. In the past, regardless of distance, I find my comfort zone is to run around 70% of it and avoid finishing last. I always knew I could have done better. The Cherry Blossom I want to run.

I'm slow and out of shape (more discussions about that later). My goal for my time is 100 minutes. 10 minute running miles and ready in 15 weeks.