Creating New Habits: The Pre-Race Expo

Urge to run away rising...rising...

WEATHER: Prettiest day in weeks.  85-ish and not-that-humid.

MILES: 3.

MILES THIS WEEK: Very few.

WHERE TO: Around.

MOOD: Nervous.

ADDITIONAL NOTES:

Tomorrow I fly to the great Midwest to take part, once again, in Grandma’s Marathon, a grand northern Minnesota tradition.  And so C. and I will trek to the great north woods and make the annual Two-Harbors-to-Duluth journey.

But first, we have to go to the pre-race expo.

The pre-race expo is a magical place, a place full of joy and informative talks about pre-race nutrition and amazing discounts on name-brand running gear. It’s an all-out running geekfest, where elites and novices alike come together to celebrate one of mankind’s greatest and oldest pastimes.

The Grand Struggle Continues (a.k.a. Why I Do Not Do Triathlons)

Psssshhh. Whatever. You're having WAY more fun than these losers.

WEATHER: Beautiful!  85ish and non-humid and beautiful!  Tralala!

MILES: 15ish.

MILES THIS WEEK: 15ish.

WHERE TO: C&O Trail

MOOD: Fantastically excited.

ADDITIONAL NOTES:

Today we started the hardcore tapering, meaning that this week’s long run was under 20 miles.  Yeah, it disturbs me, too.  But that’s how it goes when you have 13 DAYS UNTIL RACE DAY!  Ohhhh I can’t breathe for the vast quantity of excitement coursing through my veins right now (that and the lack-of-blood-sugar in said veins, as I am waiting patiently at the Apple store for my files to alll back up onto a hard drive and I will have to wait here much longer, apparently, and I haven’t eaten in forever, so that is sort of fiddling with my bodily/breathing/metabolic functions as well) (anyway).

Grandma’s Marathon in 2 weeks.  I am running it this time with the illustrious C., whom you may remember from blogposts of yore.  And if you don’t, you are not sufficiently loyal and you can go straight to hell allow me to give you a quick rundown: C. is a delightful person w/ whom I went to college, and who is now doing Ironmans.

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WEATHER: 60 — unseasonably warm

MILES: 9ish

MILES THIS WEEK: I don’t wanna talk about it.

WHERE TO: Zoo, Rock Creek Park, etc.

MOOD: Apprehensive.

ADDITIONAL NOTES:

It’s been a rough week in runningland.  After the pain-train doubleheader of marathon one weekend, uber-long runs the next, my legs have been in a downright pissy mood.

Tuesday morning found me whimpering as I laced up my shoes.  Wednesday morning, I only made myself go for a 5-mile death march by promising myself a bagel containing a veritable cream-cheese-‘splosion once I got to work.

The Republic of DJ

I don't have anything smartass to say about cherry blossoms. Sorry, kids.

MILES: 3

WEATHER: The kind of day that proves the existence of a deity of some sort.

WHERE TO: Howard U. Reservoir

MOOD: Ba-ba-booyah.

ADDITIONAL NOTES:

This is just how we do things in the Republic of DJ, kids.  We get injured, we bitch, we moan, we go to overpriced appointments with ineffectual doctors, we recover, and when our physical therapists say, “I’m restricting you to 10-mile runs for a few weeks,” we calmly respond, “OK.  So I’m running the Boston Marathon in 3 weeks, naturally.”  Then we crank out a master’s thesis, which — including table of contents, appendix, index, dedication, shout-outs, and autograph page — is 120 freaking pages, and we invite all our best and loudest girlfriends to town for Cherry Blossom Fest (and consequently, I think because of the decibel level, but it might also be the pee in the reflecting pools, get banned from all future Cherry Blossom Fests).

So.  I’m running Boston one week from today.  Do I know how it will go?  No.  Will it be a PR?  Absolutely not.  Will it be AWESOME anyhow?  Sure as hell, my friends.

Life is stressful.  Life is beautiful.  I will take my overnight train to the race and then take an overnight train back and not have to miss any work at all.  Because I did not alert anyone at work that I would be running this thing.  And so, when on Tuesday they say, “So, how was your weekend, Danielle, and why are you walking funny?” I can just respond with my usual, “Oh, you know…bonerrific,” and they will shrug and nod.

Or, if I’m feeling like a badass, I will be able to say, “Oh, you know…I sort of decided to run the Boston Marathon.  Also, afterwards, I got down and got bonerrific.”  And they will be blowwwwwwwwwwn away.

So I will finish that race in a slower time than ever before and drop to my knees and vom and diarrhea at the same time.  But before I do, I will shake my thang and recite the pledge of allegiance to the Republic of DJ:

“I pledge allegiance

to the 50-foot radius that surrounds my body,

which I have declared the Republic of DJ,

and to the prevailing legal code,

which is based around the perpetual goodness of being naked

and also drinking Diet Cokes in the shower.

Stop judging; it’s delicious and relaxing also,

and you need to relax

when you’re rocking this shit <flashes webcam>.”

.

Or maybe I will just do my best running-man dance and recite the abbreviated version:

“God bless!  Touch my bum and BELIEVE!  Let’s go get wasted!”