After perhaps the laziest two days of my entire adult life,* the guilt was more than I could bear. I knew I had to run, to flee the inertia that was threatening to permanently affix me to the couch. I’d read New York City Marathon race reports on some blogs over the weekend which sort of dissed the miles in Queens and on Queensboro Bridge, and I was feeling defensive and protective on behalf of my borough and my bridge. So I was motivated not only to run, but to feel my bridge under my feet. I’d run home from work.
There wasn’t even the hint of a chill in the air when I left my office around 6:30, but even so it was hard for me to muster my enthusiasm for this commute. I just wanted to get into bed and pull the covers over my head hoping someone would miss me enough to come dig me out. Strange. Strange indeed.
I do this–this retreat, this feigning of disinterest–when I’m scared. Twice-injured, twice-forced to defer my marathon plan in one year. It occurred to me as I trotted home that I’m dragging my feet when it comes time to run because I don’t want to feel good, build up mileage, endurance and speed only to get injured and crushed once again. Hell, even Little G is reluctant, as he took nearly 10 minutes to pick a satellite that would watch over us as we headed home.
It was a fine example of NYC serendipity when, on the way to find Brother in the runners’ reunion area after the New York City Marathon, I caught a glimpse of a strong woman dressed in blue tech clothes and a mylar cape. Sarah! Ohmygoodness, there she was, my blogging buddy and Green Mountain Relay teammate.
Tomorrow morning, I’m meeting two other women I know through blogging and Twitter for an early-morning run. Not sure I realize exactly how early I’ll need to get up to arrive on the west side of Central Park before 6:30.
DT, my Ironwoman and marathon girl, emailed me the other day that she needed to train for something, with someone [me], quick, before she “lost her mind.”
I don’t know how I did it, but I averaged 8:33’s for my run home from work. Not sure where my mind was exactly (in the office, in the kitchen, in bed) because I don’t even remember running up the steep western shoulder of the 59th Street Bridge. I wondered, as I peeked at the solitary drivers at the wheel, at the sullen passengers on the bus, Who takes care of you? And to whom to you tend?
Songs I ran to: “Kashmir” by Led Zeppelin, “Keep Coming Back” by Edie Brickell & New Bohemians, “Keep Fishin'” by Weezer, “Keep the Car Running” by Arcade Fire, “Keepin’ the Faith” by De La Soul, “Kicked Out the House” by De La Soul (Song I should have run to: “I Kicked a Boy” by The Sundays)
*Husband and I spent the weekend at the Pennsylvania house. I neither ran, nor showered. I set down my Sony eReader only long enough to get a beer or prepare dinner. To understand the depths of my apathy, I tell you this: on Sunday afternoon I watched first “The Prince and Me 2: The Royal Wedding” and then “The Prince and Me 3: Holiday Honeymoon.”
Pigtails Flying 
Another song for the should have category: Garth Brooks’ “Standing Outside the Fire” — Not just because it’s Garth Brooks and he’s awesome, but because you can’t just sit back and not run because you’re afraid of it letting you down in the end.
What boy is in need of a-kickin’?
I am proud to say that while we were in PA I watched just 5min of those Prince and Me films!
The body needs REST, 2 days of r-n-r is just what ya needed. It does a body GOOD.
rD
I was being figurative.
I’d say your 8:33 pace was due to the first song on your playlist. “Kashmir” always gets my cadence smooth and speedy!
You know the coolest thing now that I’ve run NYC? When you talk about running over the Queensboro Bridge I can say , “I’ve been there.” 🙂
TK – I only dissed “one” mile 🙂