My Weekend...

Meet Patsy and Eddie. Bolli and Stoli. Sweetie darling.

My weekend started like this:

...and ended like this:

Today I'm going to try to run 8 miles. God help me.

Love,

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Moonwalking to the Finish Line

Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone!

Kudos to Scott and his restraint because I sure as hell did not have any last night.

Homegirl started early. My car on the 6pm train to Boston turned into a bit of a bar scene. Booze was flowing at every seat either in celebration of the holiday or in anticipation of facing relatives...or both. For some reason, I have an unbelievable ability to make random aging businessmen guys fall in love with me on trains and planes. Last night was no exception. When it came time for one of my fellow passengers to disembark at Rte. 128, he grabbed my hand, stared me in the eyes and boozily cooed, "You are my train girlfriend." Thank you, Sir.

I was home sweet home by 9:45pm and Benny B and Scooter came over shortly after. We were missing our other friend Sami and the gusto to go out hard like we usually do but we forged on like the champions that we are. Scott was smart and went home in preparation for a run this morning. Ben and I picked up the vodka.

Oh, honeychild.

After Ben left, I raided the fridge in an attempt to curtail the impending poison. Let's just say that the situation was so severe that — for the first time in the history of the world — I did not finish a piece of pie. This morning...oh boy. I was going to post another "rough" picture but it was way too rough. When I stumbled downstairs in search of nausea-reducing carbohydrates, my mom asked me why there were tons of scrapes all over the front patio. Memories of a late night outdoor Michael Jackson dance off with Ben and his sister Lily came flooding back. My shoes apparently murdered the bluestone. This is what attempts at a moonwalk and spin look like:

But the point of this story is that I RAN TODAY. This is probably the most exercise I've enjoyed on a Thanksgiving outside of my usual pie-to-mouth bicep curl routine. I did it, Scott! My half marathon schedule suggested 2-3 miles today. And well, it was a struggle but I completed three loops of the Brookline reservoir (approx. 2.73 miles total). A beautiful way to spend the raw day:

That iPhone photo looks like a freaking painting! I was more concerned with not dying getting the mileage in over consistent running so I ended up doing a walking loop with my mom, a loop and a half running and the rest at a slow run/walk/run pace. Feeling pretty good and sassy, I also decided to chug up my hell hill of a driveway and work that ass. My new shoes and I are in a bit of a fight but I think we can work it out.

Anyway, I hope everyone has a healthy and happy Thanksgiving. Thanks for your support. I am thankful for everything life puts on my plate. Even if it's dry stuffing.

Dance it out, Michael.

First Group Run

While Scott was boozing and cheering on Yale on Saturday, I was cursing the closed off B train and non-existent C train, dashing to a cab, and getting stuck in traffic in a desperate race to make it to Central Park for the first TNT group run.

Above all, I was wondering why the hell I was awake at 9:30am on a weekend morning. Despite getting to bed early, I was feeling (and looking) rough:

A not all too uncommon occurrence: I was late. Luckily, when I reached Bethesda Terrace, I was greeted by a MASSIVE group. Spot Stephanie, our mentor.

The coaches were just finishing their pep talk so I stealthily slid into the group (or as stealthy as a wild child 6 footer can manage). We were going to run the roughly 1.7 mile lower loop of the park. For beginners and half marathoners, the coach suggest one loop. For advanced and intermediate runners, he suggested two. I eat that loop for breakfast. No problem, I thought, I'm gonna hit the ground running (pun intended) and take off with the advanced group. For longer distances, I've been training with the Galloway technique: running with short walking intervals. I've worked up to 10 minute intervals in the past and can do the flat Reservoir loop without a walking interval in a good 16 minutes. So alright, I thought, I can make this first loop and do a leisurely second loop.

Worst. Idea. Ever.

These people are runners. Despite it being a "conversational pace", I was quickly wheezing at anyone who wanted to chit-chat. And hello, Hills! I got a good 15 minutes of running in before I started to find myself drifting further and further back in the pack. I opted to do a walking interval and my mentor Stephanie caught up with me and walked it with me. I explained that I had thrown myself in too hard and she assured me that it's okay and I've got nothing to prove. This is a fact that I have a hard time with. I don't want to look like the dopey gym class failure. I finished strong with a run. So here was my predicament: The advanced group was far ahead of me. The beginner group was far behind me. Hang out and look like I shortcutted? What to do? I decided to knock in another half loop on my own.

So I was alone. Meanwhile, an Ultra-Marathon was being held in the park (a marathon and a half...nutsos). Since we were running on part of the course, we got a little cheering from some of the race volunteers. I particularly enjoyed the group of Italian tourists chanting "Run! Run! Run!" as I chugged up a hill.

I was getting kind of down on myself when I heard, "Hey, are you Team in Training?" A nice girl trotted up beside me and she looked like she was struggling (a comrade in arms!). She is a mentor but her knee was giving her some trouble. Together, we ran-walked-ran the rest of the half loop as she explained to me the tragic circumstances that brought her to Team in Training. A coworker went in to get a check up for a bad cough. An X-Ray revealed he didn't have a cough but Leukemia. A few days later, she randomly received a TNT flier and took it as a sign. Sadly, after she completed her first marathon, her grandmother got diagnosed with Leukemia, as well, and now she's back. I was glad she caught up with me.

Since I was between the two groups, I was officially the last person to finish the training loops. Flashbacks to the middle school half-mile run... I wanted to explain to everyone that "No! Really! I did like 2.5 miles! I'm not a beginner, I swear! Circumstances just made me finish last!". I really have to get over that self-conscious gym class failure thing. Anyway, the season has begun!

My calf was bothering me a little bit on Sunday but I figured it was just tight. Yesterday's run with Jenn revealed it is an injury. Because I procrastinated in getting new sneakers, I've been having some pain from the lack of foot and arch support. There was some searing pain and I really had to slow down. It seems I've strained the top of my Achilles tendon. Hopefully it won't be a problem but damn it hurts. At least I finally got the incentive to buy new sneakers (and cold weather gear!):


Second TNT group training run today! And hopefully Mr. Chaloff will make an appearance.

Hot Mess - Volume 1

Each day of P.E. in middle school started off with a half-mile run around our campus. In inclement weather, we'd complete equivalent laps around the gym - let's say ten. As the teachers couldn't monitor everyone's lap status, going the full distance was on an honor code basis. One rainy day, my overweight, sasstastic eleven year-old self decided four go-arounds were more than sufficient. I strode to the benches a good five or six minutes earlier than usual. Having watched me fail to execute even a single lay-up at JV basketball tryouts the week before, Coach Roach (not kidding - that was actually his name) surely noticed something was awry when I sat down before some of the primo pre-pubescent athletes among us. Long story short: I got caught and was forced to finish the remaining six laps in front of the entire class. 

Not so fast, Roach, I thought to myself, for he had left the divider that separated the two basketball courts down. As soon as I was out of  everyone's sight, I cut across the walkway between the two courts, slashing the distance in half - if not more.  

And then came the laughter echoing through the torture chamber. 

I had failed to notice that the space divider hung a good half a foot above the floor. The entire class saw every move of my sneaker-clad cankles along the bogus shortcut.  Well played, Chaloff.  Five more laps. In full view of the class. A freshly-laundered Abercrombie athletic shirt soiled FOR NAUGHT, DAMMIT.