It still counts as passing if the people are asleep on benches, right?

Set out for a slow and easy 7 this morning but ended up picking off a few people, thankyouverymuch. Felt good. Printed out my pace chart yesterday. You can get yours here. Comforting to see that I can run my first mile a full minute slower than my average pace this morning. Or at least, it will be comforting until mile 22, when 9:06 seems Usain Bolt-worthy. So that should be fun...

My Balcony Smells Like Cough Drops

That's unrelated to this blog post, but it's true, and I couldn't really think of a title.

Felt excellent for 4 this morning. Of course I did, because it was only 4, but still. Perfect fall weather. Let's hope for this next weekend. Lifted (back and abs only for the next 2 weeks). Was pleasantly surprised that my ankles, which have been sore and giving me some anxiety, felt fine. Not that I wouldn't take a beer if offered, but I'm feeling much more optimistic than I was last night. And less thirsty.

Am wearing an unfortunate orange-short-purple-tshirt combination on account of being down to the dregs of my gym clothes. Must remember to drop off laundry well in advance of the race.

Saturday will probably be my longest run until the race - Achilles workout in the morning. Which reminds me: even if you've already voted for Richard Bernstein as Jewish Community Hero of the Year, you can do it again! Vote every 12 hours!

An Ode to Beer

I'm a beer-swilling gal. Or at least I was, 23 days ago. Sure, I like the occasional glass of the grape every now and again, and a meal isn't quite complete without an Irish coffee, but for my money, nothing beats the golden hoppy goodness that is a cold brew. I remind you of this because tonight, I could really, really use a beer.

It started yesterday, with raging and quite unexpected Sunday depression. The Giants won, afterall, so there was really no need for the anxious overwhelmingness. I fought it off with Wheaties and clean sheets, but that appeared to be a temporary fix. I slogged through the workday today, frustrated over a seemingly endless grant proposal that is getting less and less focused with each iteration. I packed it to take home with me for the night, along with an entire place setting that had taken refuge in my desk, a pair of earrings, a headband, 3 tupperware containers, and 4 pairs of shoes.

I was about 25 feet from my from office when the skies opened. Resourceful as I am, I produced an umbrella from my purse and waded towards home. Until 23rd and Broadway, when a man stopped me, pointing a fork at my chest and saying "You dropped this." That, and a spoon, and a tupperware container, and the pair of earrings, as the bottom of the (paper) bag containing these items had melted. My file folder of the grant application, as well as two prescriptions and my credit card statement, resembled papier-mâché.

Gathering the melted bag and its remaining contents to my chest, I juggled my umbrella and purse and Blackberry while I teetered on heels too tall for work, let alone for monsoons. The navy blue paper shopping bag now bleeding across the chest of my white shirt, I got stuck at every intersection for the last 5 blocks of my journey. As taxis splashed puddle water onto my bare legs (goodbye, Summer!), all I could think was "Sweatpants. Couch. Beer."

A cold beer is a panacea. 12 is an amnesiac. I could have used either (both) tonight. But a peanut butter and banana sandwich was a good alternative. And I suspect 3 Nyquil will be even better.

See you in the morning, when the skies have cleared, the clothes have dried, and I am one day closer to enjoying a cold one at the end of a hard day. Or the beginning, if it's really hard. Until then, I'll be watching this on repeat. I suggest you do the same. Bonus points if you simultaneously have a beer.

Tempo Training and Tapers

13 days to go. Although I was awake by 5:30, I'm forgoing a run this morning in favor of yoga tonight. In the grand tradition of spiritual consciousness and being kind to one's body, I thought I should take this morning to reflect on myself, my training, and my race. Also, to catch up on my Facebook stalking.

But speaking of training, I will be interested to see how things play out on 11 October because my training for this race has been (if memory serves me correctly) different from that for races past; I've focused primarily on middle distance tempo runs ("comfortably hard"), as opposed to going long and slow (that's what he said). The thinking behind tempo runs is that they increase lactate threshold, which is a fancy way of saying that they teach your body to run fast even when your legs are tired and you'd rather throw in the towel and eat peanut butter straight from the jar.

While I've definitely put in a few long runs, I've done fewer than in previous training sessions (or at least it feels that way). I felt great after my last 18 miler, so I am hopeful that focusing on workouts to improve my speed won't have come at the expense of endurance.

With less than 2 weeks to go, the taper is here! Hello, short, easy workouts! I've missed you (but not as much as I miss beer). I'll go for 4s and 5s this week, with maybe 7-10 over the weekend, and then 2s and 3s race week. Unfortunately, this also means I should taper the number of calories I've consuming. Not that I won't need the energy as a foundation for the marathon, but the combination of a BBQ feast at Blue Smoke (which included, and I kid you not, donuts for dinner) on Saturday night and Burger Heaven with a side of cake frosting (don't judge me...) yesterday probably isn't necessary. Stocked up on fruits and veg at the grocery store yesterday, and will keep the aforementioned weight loss speed table in mind...

Monday. Let's all hope for a soft landing.

P.S. If everyone could take a minute to vote for my buddy Richard Bernstein as the 2009 Jewish Community Hero, I'd really appreciate it. Richard is an unbelievable guy - smart, funny, thoughtful, and selfless. He's an advocate for people with disabilities, and a wonderful representative for Achilles, the running group with which I volunteer (more on that later). He's also an Ironman, which should make you feel like an underachiever. If he wins, Richard has vowed to donate the $12,500 prize to Achilles. You can vote for him here.

Fifth Avenue Mile

Raced the Fifth Avenue Mile with Eric this morning. I'm fairly certain the last time I raced one mile was in 5th grade. Damn that Chris Ralli for winning the Midland Mile every year. Anyway, I didn't put a lot of thought into this race before about 9:25 this morning, figuring "it's one mile. What's the worst that could happen?"

Racing one mile is exceedingly difficult. Like all races, you begin standing still, but unlike everything else I've ever run, you don't get the first couple of miles to figure out what your pace is and should be, because after the first mile, the race is finished. Realizing that only moments before the gun went off, my game plan rapidly became All Out Sprint.

After a quarter mile (5 blocks), I thought, "Whoa, this is harder than I expected." In addition to being crowded, it was cold this morning. At the start of the 6th block, there was a hill. "This actually sucks," I thought, and briefly contemplated veering east and dropping out. I had no concept of how fast I was going or what a "good" quarter mile split would look like (math isn't my strong suit). At block 11, there was a downhill. I suddenly realized my breathing was roughly as loud as Caroline's 4:30am screams last weekend. I glanced at my watch and decided that even if the 3:03 reading was accurate, there was no way that pace was going to last. At block 16, I could see the finish and decided I could, in fact, survive.

I crossed the finish line in 6:33, which (if memory serves me) is my fastest mile time ever. And that record will stand, because I will never again do that.

Is it gauche to wring out your shirt and drip sweat all over the treadmill when you're running at the gym?

Received that via email today (sorry I-man), and it was quite well timed; this very morning, after running for an hour on the treadmill, I took down my ponytail to redo it and was astonished at how much sweat rained down from my hair to my arms. It was a full-fledged torrent, necessitating not just that I wipe my arms on my shirt, but that I fully towel off, as well as wring out the ends of my hair. Classy.

Because of an early morning doctor’s appointment in SoHo this morning, I was at the gym by 5:35am. First treadmill dreadmill workout in a long time. Terribly boring. All the usual suspects were there, and I wanted to tell them “Just so you know, it’s not that I haven’t been working out. I’ve just been running outside. Don’t judge me.” Instead, I listened to “Party in the U.S.A.” on repeat and sang out loud, which certainly endeared me to those judgmental gym-goers.

Anyway, to address the question above: I’d say no, on the basis that I blow my nose in the gym towels, and I’m sure plenty of people pee in the gym shower (I would, but I don’t shower at the gym. Yes, Caroline and Kat, this means I pee in our shower). So long as you make an effort to wipe down the machine after use, you are, in my opinion, entitled to perspire with reckless abandon. Sweat happens.

Thursday night. It’s criminal that I don’t have a beer in hand... Number of days sans brews: 18. Which is coincidentally the approximate number of mini candy bars I ate at my desk yesterday. And then I read this, and got sad.

18 Days to Go!

First full day of Fall, and while it looks like it (still dark at 6:30am), it certainly doesn't feel like it. Super humid. Just 2 this morning to make sure the parts are still working (they are!), plus squats/lunges, arms, and abs.

Speaking of Fall, while I certainly miss downing a few (16) beers watching football on a Sunday afternoon, I don't miss Pumpkinhead beer, which I think is vile and possibly a WMD. That said, we had a party on Saturday night (this is awkward if you weren't invited...) and Rich swore to me that Post Road Pumpkin Ale is the best he's tasted. You'll have to take his word on this (something I would never do), but I feel badly that I haven't offered much feedback in terms of beers lately, so I wanted to throw you a bone.

I myself haven't had a beer in 17 days (!), which means that tomorrow, I will have been dry for longer than there are days left until the marathon. This is sad.

Was pleasantly surprised by my quick recovery this weekend - I felt fine by Monday. Racing the Fifth Avenue Mile this weekend, but I'll probably try to squeeze in something double-digity Sunday.

Wednesday. Halfway there.

One For the Books

18 miles. Count it.

Slower than intended race pace, but I'm still feeling confident; had to make a few stops at intersections on the way to the park, and stops to wait in line at water fountains in the park, plus I won't run 26 miles in the week before the marathon as I did before the run today. Hopefully the "flat and fast streets of Chicago" will present less of a challenge than the Harlem Hill...

Tired. Would kill someone for a Bud Light right now. Cruel irony that the fridge is packed with 'em. Don't mind me - just going to inhale booze and gaze longingly at a few tall boys. Totally normal...

P.S. - Eating my second bowl of ice cream. Because I can.

Why I Didn't Run This Morning

Someone "couldn't fit" sneakers in her luggage...

A Message to Flat-Chested Women

Ladies,

Let me begin by saying this: I am not critical of your physiques. I am acutely aware that not all of us can be pectorally endowed. While surely we covet a rack like Marissa Miller's, not even Marissa Miller was bestowed with that upon puberty. I respect your androgynous frames, your ability to pull off tube tops without looking like an employee of the Emperor's Club, and the way you don't develop underboob sweat in the hottest summer months (or October, for some of us...).

That said, I fear we have an epidemic on our hands, and I refuse to sit by idly and let this affront to both fashion and common decency go uncheck. Too many women are refusing to wear bras, and this must be stopped.

I know, I know - this statement will undoubtedly be incendiary to some. Yes, there are probably some women who, desperate to relive their pot smoke filled youth, have been going braless since the 1960s. These are not the women to whom I speak (though I have my own set of problems with you). I'm talking about the middle of the Bell curve, 12-70 year old, able bodied (if not ample bodied) woman. If that's you, listen up.

Let me be very clear: this is not just a problem among those who are not mammarily blessed, though personal experience dictates it is much more common among that community. I have in fact seen ample bossomed women walking about sans restraints. I do not condone this behavior, no matter your shape or size.

On a daily basis, I am confronted by women's nipples. These women are going about their days, in tank tops or business clothes, braless. For those with large breasts, this is an obvious problem (and possibly a concern with respect to the long-term health of your back). But for those whose bra size (if they were wearing bras) falls near the beginning of the alphabet, this is still an issue. Even if your breast is more kiwi than cantaloupe, you have nipples. And I don't want to look at them through your top. A good bra isn't uncomfortable. You can't even feel it. Address this issue before you get fired (or promoted... people are perverted freaks).

What's even more concerning to me, as a woman and as an athlete, is the notion that there are women out there, bouncing down the streets, shaking on the elliptical, jiggling in the exercise studio, unrestricted. Ladies, you have a choice. Why would you choose this painful and unflattering fate? Wearing a sports bra is like getting a really tight, albeit sweaty, hug. We love ourselves, do we not? And, as productive members of society, how do we show our love? With a hug.

As is the case with so many epidemics, the long-term effects of bralessness are not known, but early indications are such that your boobs will be down to your belly button by 40.

In summation, I urge each and every one of you, no matter the cup size, no matter whether or not you think you need it (and trust me, you need it), put a bra on.

Fondly,

Your comrade in cups

Something gross

Rest day to give the sticks some time to recover. Spent yesterday evening running errands and having UES adventures with Cate. We saw lots of dogs, and all told, I walked nearly 7 miles. In flip flops, hence the dirt-ass condition of the soles of my feet when I got home last night (above). Slept in compression socks (dual purpose: leg support AND white comforter protection!). Ab work this morning.

Excited for Cathy's American arrival tomorrow. Hope she doesn't mind waking up at 5:30am on vacation...

Nothing Like a Little Tuesday Morning Indecency

Legumes are still feeling a little wonky - those suckers won't chill out when it's bedtime! - but I did 5 this morning, plus ab work. Ran past a group of high schoolers on their way to tennis practice and had to restrain myself from pulling a Billy Madison ("Stay as long as you can!"). Was getting a faulty reading from my heart rate monitor around mile 4 and figured the connection might have been disrupted from my sports bra, so I yanked it out of the way and clear off my chest. That was both physically comfortable and pleasant for those around me, I suspect. After a little very public self groping (under the shirt, over the bra), I managed to straighten things out. Fortunately, this all went down after I passed the high schoolers, so I won't be featured on To Catch A Predator.

Have a clothing-clad Tuesday, kids!

If At First You Don't Succeed...

So, some good news: when I woke up this morning, I hadn't lost my sense of smell, my hair hadn't mysteriously turned white, and I had full use of all my extremities. Pleasantly surprised I hadn't suffered a stroke and was experiencing the onset of paralysis yesterday, I ran 7 today without incident.

All signs point to dehydration (or swine flu), which is surprising particularly because I'm off the sauce. In addition to my legume tragedy, I was also overcome by the most intense exhaustion last night (I fought it off to see the Giants win, thankyouverymuch). I'm trying to take care good care of myself this week as I recover, and also not to think about it too much in case the mysterious malady rears its ugly head to stump (that pun would be funny if I weren't terrified my legs will turn into a mermaid tail tonight) me once again.

After my brush with leglessness, I was (understandably) nervous about my future as an international marathoner (what? I ran in Vancouver once...) My legs felt weird all day, in that they were noticeably there, south of my junk, feeling slightly tingly inside my pant legs. But the run went off without a hitch, and my confidence is restored.

Furthermore, I lifted today, with the thought that if I was going to lose the use of my limbs, I'd want people to look back and say wistfully, "Such a shame. She used to have Michelle Obama arms." And thanks to the Bill of Rights, I can utter that boldfaced lie without fear of prosecution. Yay Democracy!

Hope everyone makes full use of their various body parts. Until next time.

Fondly, Claire the Legged

Uh Oh...

The strangest and most unfortunate thing just happened on my run...

I woke up this morning simultaneously knowing I had to do a big run and dreading doing it; I haven't gone longer than 10 in some 3 weeks.  Having spent the day yesterday on my feet at a work event in the Hamptons, I was exhausted, but stayed up later than I should have.  I also slept in, timing the start of my run to coincide with the hottest hours of the day.  Brilliant.  That said, I'm young and fit.  Or so I thought...

Having come out to CT last night after my work trip, I had planned to run 4-5 loops of just over 4 miles each.  As I've mentioned, the conditions out here are quite hilly, but having just returned from 5 days of running in the Adirondacks, I had expected to be even more prepared than usual.  False.

Loop 1 sucked.  It was hilly and more humid than I would have liked.  I spent the duration cursing myself for electing to do this in CT.  Be that as it may, I completed it.  Which is more than I can say about loops 2-5.

I began Loop 2, a course with which I'm much more familiar, with some relief, confident that I had tackled it as recently as 2 weeks ago with little difficulty.  Not even 5 minutes in, however, I felt an incredible burning (in my quads, not when I pee.  Don't freak out).  In all my races, I have never felt lactic acid build up like this, and certainly not at the 5 mile mark.  Knowing this was more than a little ache, I stopped in my tracks and reached down to shake out my quads.  They felt normal.  But even walking a few steps brought back the intense lactic acid burn.  I shook some more.  No relief.  This was a problem.

I managed to get myself back to my parents house the way the Little Chef in Ratatouille manages to get Gustav's son to not suck at cooking (if that reference escapes you, Disney Channel is having a marathon of movies with animals.  I suggest you tune in) and drafted this very blog post on my Blackberry while draining my legs (see above).  As you might imagine, this whole experience has been quite nerve wracking, as I plan to go for a PR in the Chicago Marathon one month from today.  Most concerning to me is that I have no idea why this happened.  I haven't been drinking (don't remind me), I had plenty to eat yesterday, got a full 8 hours of sleep, have been running plenty, but didn't overdo it this week, etc etc.  I am trying not to flip the eff out and remind myself that I have 4 full weeks to go, but that may mean I will only get one 18-20 miler in before the race.  

Going to head back to the City this afternoon so I can a) watch the Giants, and b) be sure to have time to go for a run in the morning tomorrow.  Wish me luck for no more weird maladies or afflictions...

I <3 NY

No funny business today. Thank a police officer, firefighter, or serviceperson. Spend the weekend with the people you love and tell them so. Have a safe day.

Thursday Already?

Was sleepy when the alarm went off this morning. Got dressed in running gear anyway. Was handsomely rewarded for that effort with a gorgeous pink and purple sunrise this morning (sorry, no pics. Trust me on this one). Ran to Brooklyn Bridge (7) and felt slowish and comfortable. Pleasantly surprised to find I was running at a good clip. Why doesn't that happen more often? Cool and breezy.

In looking through weekend pictures and catching a glimpse of my shadow this morning, I have determined that it couldn't hurt to work on my posture and core strength some more. As in, more than planks 2 or 3 times a week. As in, actually lying down on the ground and doing sit-ups. As in, more than one. I know - this is big.

Sure, this plan could have been even more effective had I started it two months ago. And sure, that way I could have reaped the benefits during bathing suit season. But I have 5 weeks to go, so it can't possibly hurt to have a core (and upper back maybe) strong enough that I haven't shrunk down to 5'4" by the end of the race.

So, I guess I'm gonna go do some sit-ups now, and have flashbacks to Mr. Ansbro and the Presidential Physical Fitness Test in the Midland Gym. And no, old man, I will NOT fill my pockets with money before I hang upside down on the parallel bars...

32 Days Out

Woke up with a splitting headache this morning (probably bologna/bagel withdrawal), but went out for 4 after doing some quick math and realizing the race is in 32 days. Not that a 4 mile run is going to do that much for me at this stage. Want/need to do something in the 18-20 range this weekend, but am traveling for work, so not sure how that will work itself out...

Saw two elderly people jogging hand-in-hand this morning. Cute. Not very efficient, but cute.

Staycation Complete

Back from a truly restorative “Restoration Week.” That’s a lie, I’m uber depressed. But instead of dwelling on the fact that today I had to go to work for the first time in 10 days, and when I first turned on my computer at my desk, I couldn’t remember my login information, couldn’t work the keyboard, and suffered from eye strain after 6 minutes, I thought I’d throw up a few pics from the weekend, and note a few highlights:

Thursday – arrived at Camp at lunchtime. Drank a beer and ate a bologna sandwich. Decided to go running (note to self – don’t do that on October 10^th). Ran about 6.25 on trails while Nina and Mrs. Fulmer biked alongside me. Lots of gravel/rocks, lots of hills. Wonder if perhaps Mrs. Fulmer thinks I’m a better athlete than I am.

Friday – Nina and Mr. Fulmer went to the golf course, so I ran to Bald Mountain while Holly and Mrs. Fulmer biked. Mountainous. Sunny. Trafficky. Confirmed that Mrs. Fulmer thinks I’m a better athlete than I am. Sucked wind for 8-ish miles. Hoped they were serious when they said “fast and flat streets of Chicago.”

Saturday – Morning run with all the girls (sans Megan, who gets a bye since she lives in a place 3 hours behind Old Forge, and because she doesn’t work out. Unfair). Ran/walked 3.75-ish. Pretended we were the US Ski Team. Don’t think we were particularly convincing. Wish I could bring Leslie, Nina, Cate, Kelly, and Brennan on all my runs in the future.

Sunday – Golfers went golfing, so Megan, Brennan, Cate and I hiked to the top of Bald Mountain. Cate and I ran home (4). Lots easier on the return trip. Glad to have the company of my running companion, Staphy McPinkEye again. Hope she is not further afflicted by scarlet fever or whatever is next in her scrapbook of weird maladies no one living in the first world in this 21^st century should contract (note to self – get vaccinated. For everything).

On top of all that, we also participated in canoeing, kayaking, badminton, swimming, and competitive eating. Add that to the professional football and tennis I watched in the beginning of the week, and the college football I watched last night and you might as well call me Mary Henwood.

On the beer front, we drank Saranac, and a lot of it. Pomegranate Wheat is a crowd favorite, but I’m partial to both the Brown Ale and the Black Forest. I highly recommend you invest in some next time you’re in the Great North. And while you’re at it, bring some back for me.

Spending the evening unpacking, cleaning my room, and sobbing silently while rocking back and forth on the floor of my room thinking about how I don’t have vacation for the rest of 2009 AND have entered into the booze-free phase of my training. That sounded way more intense when I typed it out – don’t steal the belt from my bathrobe or anything. I’ll survive. And in the meantime, look at more pics of my sporty staycation on Shutterfly.

Welcome, Fall. Summer, we hardly knew ye.

"Say Do You Remember? Never Was A Cloudy Day"

It's only the second day, but September is shaping up to be gorgeous. Spent yesterday at the US Open with my dad. The parking lot is pretty far from the BJK Tennis Center, and there are a lot of stairs in the Arthur Ashe Stadium, so I'm going to count that as a cross training day.

Ran for 7-ish down the East River this morning. Got a later start than usual because I'm on vacation (have I mentioned I'm on vacation?), so I didn't hit the pavement until 10:00am. Surprised by how many other runners I encountered. I know it's a recession, but NONE of you people have jobs? Come on. But I can't really blame them, because the conditions were near perfect. Excited for the fall.

Got tired faster than usual. Going to blame the protein rich diet of hot dogs I had at the Open yesterday. Had to really focus on maintaining good form. Hell, I had to really focus on not walking. Being 3 hours and 17 minutes shy of my planned race time, I figured 42 minutes wasn't really an appropriate point at which I could stop. Slogged it out until the end.

Heart rate monitor is showing the low battery indicator, which is annoying. I-man says his has been like that since April and he hasn't replaced it yet. As I've mentioned, I really hate not having it on runs, but I hate even more when it gives faulty readings. Trust me, Mr. Polar, my heart rate at rest is not 44, so it's definitely not 44 when I'm running uphill being chased by a hobo with a dirty needle (hypothetical, but possible to be sure). Anyway, might wanna get that taken care of between now and October. And get a hepatitis vaccine...

Looking forward to lots of Adirondack runs with lots of friends this weekend. Until my return, drink plenty of beers!

Love, Claire