A Few Minor Adjustments

When I signed up to run the marathon I didn't take it lightly, but I also didn't foresee exactly how the endeavor would turn into the Blob and envelope my life in its sentient protoplasm. That may be a little dramatic. The truth is, I send my boyfriend out alone on Friday nights because I have to go to bed at 10pm and can't drink, so that I can get up at 5am for my Saturday morning long run. Then on Saturday nights when we socialize together, I find myself talking to people about how long I ran that morning, what my legs feel like right now, and good god I even talk to them about my under arm chafing! Seriously - when your coworkers start leaving torn out NY Times articles about runners lubricants in your desk, you know you've discussed your chafing with too many people.

I spend the better part of my Saturday afternoons soaking in an ice bath, napping, and taking a hot shower. I spend shocking amounts of money on gear and gels and I obsessively covet a pricey GPS watch (the Garmin Forerunner 405 in case you are curious). I know Central Park like the back of my hand. I can run up and down a set of stairs repeatedly for an entire hour. I have a Runner's World subscription (thanks mom!) and I actually understand what they are saying now when they talk about "negative splits" and "tempo runs." When people tell me they don't like running, I feel like they are missing out on one of life's greatest pleasures. I actually lose track of time while running. The marathon has enveloped me in its sentient protoplasm, and now we are one. If you don't like to hear someone talk about running, you should probably avoid me at parties.

I am doing 18 miles on Sunday with NYRR (why I haven't joined NYRR yet is beyond me), so wish me luck! After that, I do 20, then taper, then it's showtime!