Posts Tagged ‘JFK 50 Miler’

The Official Rundown (complete with death threats and Celine Dion)


You're an inspiration to us all, you beautiful Canadian bastard.

WEATHER: Chilly, windy.

MILES: 0.

MILES THIS WEEK: Erm….13ish.

WHERE TO: Thus far?  Barely a block from home today.

MOOD: Fragile in body, lazy in spirit.  Also kind of itchy.

ADDITIONAL NOTES:

Nothing in my body is quite back to any sort of normalcy yet since last weekend.  It took a whole three days before I could stand up or sit down without vocalizing.  My walk was particularly pitiful-looking, so much so that my editor at work told me on Monday that, instead of me going to talk to him in his office when he hollered for me (for my workplace is the apex of professionalism), we could just yell across the hall to each other.

As it stands right now, running again is still tough.  I know, I know; I had planned on a luxurious month or so of doing anything but running post-race.  Biking!  Power-walking!  Jazzercising!  1980s Jane Fonda aerobics videos!  Shakeweights!  Learning to play the theremin!  Calming the house thermostat wars!  Working on my issues with relatively innocuous words like “naughty,” “fungible,” and “hosiery”!

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THINGS TO DO WHILE YOU’RE RUNNING: Part 5 — Burn Out


WEATHER: Sort of hot for October

MILES: 0

MILES THIS WEEK: 29

WHERE TO: Nowhere.

MOOD: Filled with the joy and ennui that are the spirit of Columbus Day

ADDITIONAL NOTES:

I know what you’re thinking: I don’t burn out, right?  RIGHT.  I mean, I wake up every morning and leap out of bed, yelling, “PUT ON YER SPORTS BRA AND ASS-KICKIN’ BOOTS!  IT’S GO-TIME!”  Then I put on my spandex bodysuit and a few yards of multicolored tinsel and go leaping around DC until I have my ya-yas out, or until that security patrol guy on the Mall sees me, shakes his head and says, “You again?” and chases me around on his Segway, none of which really makes any sense for him to do, because since when was there a law against LOOKING GREAT, huh, you fascist?

Anyway.

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Economic Stimulus!


WEATHER: Fantastic.

MILES: 6.

MILES THIS WEEK: A bajillion, plus 6.

WHERE TO: Catholic University, Howard U. Reservoir.

MOOD: Renewed.

ADDITIONAL NOTES:

Well, hi there, everyone.  I’m back from the great blog-vacation, and I have renewed zeal and vigor for informing your beautiful asses about all things running.

During my time off, life continued generally as it usually does (i.e., clumsily aping the motions of a successful journalist), but I did go on a quick vacation up to Cape Ann, Massachusetts, where I saw two wonderful, wonderful friends from college marry each other. I cried like a total weenie, this is true, but I managed to bite off both ends of a Twizzler and use it as a straw through which I drank eight beers and subsequently did the “throwing sparkles dance” AND the “butt dance” for several hours regain my composure in fine style and then hit shamelessly on the wedding officiant tell the bride and groom how much they have meant to my life.

And, of course, I ran.  The mileage has further pushed into uncharted territory. I won’t tell you exactly how many total miles I am now running per week–a figure that actually sort of troubles even me at this point–but it’s smaller than the number of chickens (nesting hens, not roosters) that you can fit in a U-Haul and bigger than a breadbox.

Seriously, the break was a good time to regroup, take a deep breath, brainstorm, and clip my toenails, and let me tell you, I think we’re going to be better than ever here at The Running Log. The operation is growing, and I can feel new opportunities awaiting this enterprise around every corner.  And so it is with great pleasure that I announce:

THE RUNNING LOG IS HIRING!

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I’m going to Hell. I know this.


This guy? He's got WHEELS.

WEATHER: Humid but relatively nice.

MILES: 32.

MILES THIS WEEK: 81.

WHERE TO: Everywhere.

MOOD: Pumped.

ADDITIONAL NOTES:

I keep meaning to go to church more often…really, I do…but my Sunday morning long runs have started spooling out longer and longer than expected, leaving me in a sweaty heap on the living room floor, leaking puddles of sweat that run the length of the house.

“See you after worship, heathen!” chirp my housemates, slipping past and cursing me for being so genetically predisposed to grossness.

Tomorrow I will make it.  Really, I will.  And I will include in my confession an apology for the below post, which shows you all of the religious texts you NEVER KNEW EXISTED that deal with running.  It’s a holy practice, everyone.  It will make you closer to God/Goddess/The Flying Spaghetti Monster.  I promise.

So here goes:

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Running, The Stars, and You


Yay, astrology! I mean, why ever make another logic-based decision for yourself again?

WEATHER: Rainy, yes, but at least it’s not want-to-die-hot.

MILES: 22.

MILES THIS WEEK: 22.

WHERE TO: Beach Drive, Crescent Trail, home.

MOOD: Exhausted.

ADDITIONAL NOTES:

Sorry about the lack-of-posting again.  Posting just once a week makes me a tease, I realize, and I shouldn’t toy with your emotions that way, baby.  I’m sorry.  I’ll make it up to you.  And while I’d love nothing more than to find my Luther Vandross collection and candles, let me remind you that it’s Sunday, and what I got planned, sweet thang, isn’t a sabbath-day activity (also, Jesus hated Luther Vandross).

Or we could just do something occult-related.  Yes, let’s do that.  So:

YOUR RUNNING HOROSCOPE

Aries (March 21-April 20) – Today finds you feeling restless and stubborn, like the mighty ram that you are. Though you don’t want to go do those mile repeats, trust me — your body will thank you.  Today’s workout will lead you to good fortune and possibly new romantic prospects.  Pursue these with alacrity, mindful of the fact that you are compatible with Tauruses but not Cancers.  Take the day off.  Find yourself.

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Sweat, Self-Doubt, Religious Fanaticism, and Sean Astin


"Mister Frodo! I'm a more compelling character than you!"

WEATHER: Dripping gross nasty blech.

MILES: 14.

MILES THIS WEEK: 14

WHERE TO: Palisades, Georgetown, Mall, Capitol, home.

MOOD: Dispirited.

ADDITIONAL NOTES:

I’ve been remiss once again, and I apologize.  One reason is that I wrote a post on The Paki’s blog, in which I talk not about running but about a fantastic book you should read.  But I partly blame, ironically, the running for my recent non-blogging-ness.

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Greener (Read: More Masochistic) Pastures


Soon I will look like Dean. Making me the scariest woman ever.

WEATHER: 45 — uncharacteristically cold for May in DC.

MILES: 10, with 8 hill repeats over by the Duke Ellington Bridge

MILES THIS WEEK: 13 (counting my sissy hung-over attempt at running yesterday)

WHERE TO: Adams Morgan, Duke Ellington Bridge, Rock Creek Parkway a little way, home.

MOOD: New lease on life (well, almost).

ADDITIONAL NOTES:

Well, readers, after a long lapse filled with schoolwork, stress, schoolwork, stress-baking, and a kegger at my house last weekend, I am back with the blog-posting and ready to answer all your running-related questions, as well as to inform you about the finer points of my running, like shinsplints, mental toughness, and intestinal woe.  Things are great in grad-school land, except I have yet to get the final OK on my thesis (move it along, advisors…) and the OK from my grad school that I passed the (impossible and arbitrarily-graded, from my understanding) language exit exam (why do you hate me, GWU?  WHY?).

This morning’s run was great — I wore my day-glo-yellow 2009 Boston Marathon t-shirt and did hill repeats, which made me feel like a bad-ass.  The shirt being relevant here because (sad but true) sometimes wearing a Boston shirt is all that makes me want to get through interval workouts, because interval workouts are as much fun as pap smears (or ear-peeing, as an earlier post put it).

But on to the point, which is, of course, what race to do next.  As a still-poor almost-graduated grad student, I can’t be gallavanting off to God-knows-where just to pound the shit out of my legs.  So we’re staying local.  Which will actually be kind of fun.  To wit:

1) Marine Corps Marathon.  Yeah, I had promised myself I’d try something new this year, but then the Mountie e-mailed me, saying she was doing it.  And since I usually feel selfish and guilty calling up all my friends/coworkers/etc. and telling them to come stand on a chilly corner in Crystal City for 3 hours only to see me jog by in a soggy, mildly coherent, burgundy-faced mess late in the morning, I thought it might be nice to have someone to share the guilt with. So come October 31, the Mountie and I will be rocking that shit, after which I hope she will do me the honor of joining me for my customary shameless use-my-plate-as-a-trough-brunch-fest.

2) JFK 50-Miler.  OK.  I have a little tale to tell you, and it starts back in April 2004, when I was studying abroad in London.  I was 6 years younger and 25 pounds heavier and, on the particular night in question, 12 beers drunker than I am now.  My friend Monica and I had been jogging together every day in Hyde Park, and so naturally we thought the Twin Cities Marathon would be a good first race.

“DJ!  Let’s do it!” she screamed.

I raised my fists triumphantly and fell off my bar stool.

On Saturday night, 10 marathons later but this time only about 5-beers drunk, I found myself having a similar conversation with my friend Rusty.

“Let’s do the JFK 50-miler!” he screamed.

I raised my fists triumphantly and sloshed beer down my front.

Ultramarathons — these decisions are best made while drunk.

So I will be doing the JFK 50-Miler, a race that sounds awesomely hardcore.  I quote the Reston Runners website dedicated to this race:

“Almost all runners experience some serious low points during the run where you forget that it’s actually more fun than the MCM. Usually this occurs between 25-35 miles. Expect this. Know that this will pass. Second, third and fourth winds are almost guaranteed. You are not allowed to drop out because you are tired. You are only allowed to drop out if you are injured. You are not allowed to pretend you are injured.”

…AWESOME.  And then there are the tips for crews:

“When your runner arrives, don’t expect him/her to be able to do anything or think clearly. … Offer food- don’t be offended if they refuse-ask again.”

Honestly, this might sound insufferable, but I think this is a logical next step.  I mean, I finish a marathon now and sort of shrug and limp home, either pumped or depressed about my time.  Now I will run a race in which my ONLY GOAL will be to finish.  I will finish and have my post-race/post-partum laugh-cry and then get in the car for a post-race/post-partum flipout at how awesome I feel.  Which will probably involve more delirious laugh-crying.

………

OK, so you may find this all to be an absolutely ridiculous plan, but you have to agree that reading the blog posts will be entertaining.  You’re excited.  Don’t lie.  So here’s to new projects and feeding the obsessive beast that is running.  Mmmmmm, this will ROCK.

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