Throw a Lassoo ‘Round Yer Scattered Thoughts, Darlin’, and Rein ‘Em In! (Yee Haw)

I have like a gabillion things I want to tell you, but none of them are important or even interesting. Perhaps the worst offense, though, is that most of them aren’t even related to running. All the important stuff is actually quite pedestrian (omg I am friggin hilarious). My blojo (no I did not drop a “b,” see elow)* seems to have left me temporarily; I can’t rein in my thoughts enough to write one of those posts that on the surface are about my running but really are about how the rest of my life is in the toilet, or how I’m deliriously happy, or how I am hopeful, fearful, disappointed, angry.

With the admittedly ambitious plan of running five days this week, I got in a workout before breakfast today. It was dark, and I should say it was cold but the temperature wasn’t the problem. The problem was Mr. Wind, that big meanie. Every time I ran west along Skillman Avenue to complete the third side of my Sunnyside Loop, that fat bastard (because surely Mr. Wind is grossly obese) would blow his coldest stuff right at me. I know he did it on purpose, just to fuck with me. I understand, he was bored. There weren’t that many other people out at 5:30 AM this morning (especially not runners since a lot had run the marathon the day before), so he decided to pick on me. Whatever, I had his number. I wasn’t going to let him win. Instead, I cut my run short (instead of 4.3 I ran just  3.45), effectively limiting the amusement he could get on my behalf. Oh yeah, I sure showed him! I am sure he got in some good knee-slapping laughs though before I stopped running, since I had to lean in and shoulder my way through some of his most powerful gusts. What a dick.

Anywho. Not even Mr. Wind could ruin the first Sunday of November for me, or for the dozens of my friends and acquaintances who ran and spectated the New York City Marathon yesterday. More on this in a separate “From the Curb” post, but to give you an idea: the only day of the year that is better than Marathon Sunday is my birthday.

This is a new development: I lllooove my weekends. I used to spend them either fulfilling family obligations or working (working! What a schmoe!). Now, I fill my weekends with fun plans with friends, running buddies and other people I know who can make me laugh (professional ticklers, amateur klutzes, etc.). I used to get itchy for Monday, anxious to get back into the office and to my midtown social circles.  But now when Monday rolls around, I am despondent and sluggish. Mondays officially suck. I realize that for the rest of the normal world this is far from a news flash, but it sure as hell is a revelation for me. It signals a healthy shift of attitude and priorities. Which leads me to…

Saturday was terrific! I woke up at an indecent hour (7:30 AM! So late!) to meet two Twitter friends, Matt @luau and Michelle @BklynRunner, for a pre-marathon easy run. Of course, Matt was the only one of us running the marathon. I’d never met him in person before (he’s from MA) so this was a treat. We met in Grand Army Plaza, with the plan being to run across the bottom of the park to the finish line and back so we could all get the subway. True to form, I started getting all panty and misty eyed when I saw all the runners mobbing the area, trotting into and out of the park for their pre-marathon shake-out. On a good day, I’m just as cynical and jaded as any other New Yorker, but on a race day I am romantic and sentimental. My heart filled with all of the hopes and excitement of every runner in the park; I was moved by what they had yet to accomplish, and I gave a few pathetic sobs. As quickly as the emotion seized me it had passed, I composed myself before anyone noticed (though I was relieved when Matt admitted he was moved too by the scene). We had come to the runner’s mecca–Central Park, the day before the New York City Marathon. The miles were indeed easy breezy, we weren’t setting any land speed records but rather just enjoyed each other’s company and the feeling of getting the legs going. Matt’s a big smiler, expansive in demeanor, and full of positivity. This is refreshing, since sometimes I feel like everyone in New York is always battle-ready, so guarded. We trotted over to the finish line, which they wouldn’t let us actually get near–it was all blockaded off, which felt right. Only actual finishers of the marathon should get to cross it. The sight of it did make my heart pound; it was like spotting an ex-boyfriend from across the room at a party. All the memories–good and bad, sweet and bitter–came flooding back. I missed a turn on the way back and we ended up at the 72nd Street transverse, so we trotted down Fifth Avenue for a bit. Then I left my friends to run home solo across my bridge, in the opposite direction of how the marathoners would go on Sunday.

It’s the simplest kind of happiness, running over my bridge. It is just physical labor, just that. All she asks is that I don’t walk. If I keep running, no matter the pace, we maintain a mutual respect. So as I ran over her arched back, I told her she needed to be kind to my friends tomorrow, when they would join the crowds trampling her.  I got no response, but it was enough that I put it out there. Ultimately, she claimed Haile, but perhaps he was the sacrifice for everyone else’s easy passage.

Before I knew it I was home, then cleaned up and heading back into the city for the tweet-up brunch. Michelle pulled the whole thing together, she has an incredible reach into Twitter and DailyMile. She brough the people, I booked the joint. We played to our strengths, what a team! We had more than 35 people show up, both NYC Marathoners as well as local runners and people who had come to town to spectate and enjoy the runner’s mecca. I was absolutely thrilled to see so many of my “tweeps” gathered all in one place. Though some key favorites were missing, I was so energized by those who were present, most of whom were going to toe the line in Fort Wadsworth the next day. I also met a few new cool people, which was a pleasant surprise. Heroes, one and all.

Still working backwards, Friday and Thursday were painful for me, back- and shoulder-wise, so I didn’t run as I’d planned. Instead, I went to the Expo on Thursday and met up with more friends from my Twitter network. The highlights were being “spotted” by @multisportdad who totally picked me out of the crowd and shouted out my name (impressive!), and spending time browsing and having a heart-to-heart with my friend AG. Truly, one of the best things in life is talking racing and running with like-minded friends… while surrounded by the biggest shopping mall of running gear… on the precipice of the best marathon in the world… Are you all catching my ceaseless use of superlatives? While I was there, I was going to buy a Road ID, except I get a panic attack every time I think about who my emergency contact will be, so I luckily dodged that bullet when AG and I couldn’t find the booth.

Wednesday was really the kickoff to Marathon Week, as I went for a fun run (which was actually pretty frustrating) with folks from RUN by Foot Locker knowing that at the end I’d get to shake hands with Ryan Hall. One word of advice: don’t ever ever ever try and run across town along 14th Street, period. I can’t imagine a time of day when it would be enjoyable, when you wouldn’t have to dodge a million annoying fancypants people. Three things redeemed the night. 1) I ran my middle mile pretty fast 2) I got to catch up with Coach Steve H from TNT and 3) I shook hands with Ryan Hall! He has very nice hands. Unfortunately, he didn’t give a talk or take questions, but I wished him luck in his training. I hope he could tell I meant it. He looked tired and a bit trapped. I looked sweaty and a bit manic. All things considered, it was a draw. PS saw @earlymorningrun, @katruns26point2 and @RunKino there.

Tuesday mornings are becoming a touchpoint in the week for me. I meet MP every week for 5-7 miles, and it is reassuring to know that no matter what, we’re there, running. I’ve never really had a standing date before–it suits me. The rest of my week rotates around that Tuesday morning run with MP–it was the only workout I was able to complete the week after my car accident. Our conversation isn’t especially heavy, but yet I always feel like an enormous weight has been lifted after our run. Perhaps it’s because rather than introspection, we choose to laugh at ourselves. Whatever it is, I am grateful. This week especially, it was a privilege to share one of her last runs before her marathon.

Nov 8. 3.45 miles in 34:46. Average pace 10:04, fastest mile 10; slowest 10:13
Nov 6. 6.45 miles in 1:05:26. Average pace 10:08; fastest mile 9; slowest 11:22
Nov 3. 3.52 miles in 32:35. Average pace 9:15; fastest mile 8:55; slowest 9:21
Nov 2. 6.18 miles in 58:38. Average pace 9:29; fastest mile 8:16 (I think Little G is erroneous); slowest mile 9:47

*blogging mojo