Beginner's Hurdles

Three things happened this week that took me to the next level in running rockstardom. I'm not talking about breaking records for distance or crushing pace. I'm talking:

1. Group Runs
2. Morning Miles
3. Fanny Packs

All three are attainable, my friends. I'm not sure about sustainable, but I'll report back.

GROUP RUNS

I love people, I really do. But running with them? Before this weekend, I couldn't imagine liking that so much. Picture me sweating bullets while the person next to me indiscreetly stares up at the sky to see if it just started drizzling. Or me panting so hard the person next to me politely adjusts their headphones to omit the background noise. Or me running at such a slow pace that the person "running" with me is really speed walking... backwards, like a tour guide. Well, turns out all of those things were irrational fears of mine. And by the time we hit the ground running at the first occasional Running of the Mules this weekend, I realized I felt comfortable. I could laugh and talk and run, all at the same time. Not to mention having a support system to answer all my awkward running questions. By the way, 25% of us were running commando. 

MORNING MILES

Today marked my first morning run. I set my alarm for 5:30am. Disgusting. Um, this is why I moved to New York - to never see those numbers on my non-iPhone again or hear that painful sound that makes my circadian clock bleed. But once I actually got out the door, it was pleasant. No one is out, except the runners. And as your eyes lock on the uneven sidewalk, you send telepathic thoughts, "Yeah, we're up. We own this block. We built this city with our own two quads..." Or maybe just "I hope I don't fall and break my ankle.  Is this guy going to go right, or do I have to go left? Do I have a wedgie?" Many questions arise. But the real best part about running in the morning is the simple fact that you don't have to again in the afternoon. Or the night. It's like a "Get Out of Jail Free Card" for running even though you already did it. Let's not overlook the fact that I'm still equating running to being in jail. 

FANNY PACKS

Running is not cheap. The registration fees, the tech wardrobe, the gear.. the FANNY PACKS. I always appreciated a good fanny pack. But after someone so generously loaned me theirs over the weekend, I realized why so many people opt to wear the scary blood pressure cuff instead. I guess my hips don't lie when I'm running, because that fanny pack became a second bra every other step. So immediately following the run I made my way back to the running store to purchase an arm band. And my life has never been the same since. Granted it's only been three days, but they've been a pretty solid three days. 

So grab a friend, wake him/her up early, and tighten your fanny pack if it suits your fancy. It's go time.   

Pure Imagination

"If you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it. Anything you want to, do it. Want to change the world...

...there's nothing to it." - Willy Wonka

Last week I got to meet the man of my dreams - Gene Wilder. Sorry future husband, you will just have to accept me on one condition. I will always love the candy man. And if you happen to be a candy man, there's a 90% chance you are my future husband.

Now I could write pages and pages about Gene Wilder's dramatic (and comedic) genius, but for those of you who know me, Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory has defined my mortal existence. I dream of golden tickets every time I open a chocolate bar. I get scared I'll turn into a blueberry if I chew  gum. I lick wallpaper... um, that's not true. But I did make lickable wallpaper once when I converted my childhood home into a chocolate factory and my best friend drove me around dressed as an Oompa Loompa. Inquire within.

But what I love most about Gene Wilder as Mr. Wonka is how he had a hand in making that character as magical and mysterious as I will always remember him to be. At the event, which also happened to be a book signing for his latest romantic fiction Something to Remember You By, Gene relayed a story about one of his "demands" for taking the part.

"When I make my first entrance, I'd like to come out of the door carrying a cane and then walk toward the crowd with a limp. After the crowd sees Willy Wonka is a cripple, they all whisper to themselves and then become deathly quiet. As I walk toward them, my cane sinks into one of the cobblestones I'm walking on and stands straight up, by itself; but I keep on walking, until I realize that I no longer have my cane. I start to fall forward, and just before I hit the ground, I do a beautiful forward somersault and bounce back up, to great applause."

Why did he want Wonka to make this entrance?

Because "from that time on, no one will know if I'm lying or telling the truth." 

Brilliant. And how am I going to relate this back to running? This journey is (hopefully) my most memorable entrance.  I've always wanted to keep people guessing. But I've also always wanted to give people the same faith in pure imagination that Willy Wonka gave me. And how fitting to think that my journey will end (or really just begin) at Hersheypark - one of the most popular chocolate factories in the United States. 

And for those of you who have been wondering where has Gene Wilder been hiding, having not been seen in a movie or on stage in 22 years?

"My agent has tried, but I don't like what I see. There's so much... swearing. And bombs, and fighting, and... swearing. I'd much rather write, drink some tea, give my wife a kiss, and write some more." 

A great man, and a night I will always remember. 

Now hold your breath, make a wish, count to three. Come (run) with me.

Partly Cloudy with a Chance of Progress

Today I installed my air conditioner window unit. You know what that means... summer is coming. As it gets warmer I'm getting more and more fearful of training outdoors. I sweat enough as it is in a temperature controlled environment. My advice to those people who sweat too much when they run: read this, instead of this. I would much rather like to think I'm just losing cute little beads of plasma instead of having hyperhidrosis. 

But before I get ahead of myself, I really couldn't have asked for a more perfect weekend. Let's erase Friday night - I mean, doesn't the sky eventually run out of water?! There really is nothing like a partly cloudy seventy degree day. I'm talking straight up fluffy cumulonimbus. None of that overcast stratus BS.

Or lying on your back in Prospect Park looking up at this with great company...

And running on a partly cloudy seventy degree day? Even better. I almost scared myself today when I chose to go on a run to get rid of Sunday Syndrome instead of staying in to soak in my "Sundays suck" sadness. Who am I?

On a random sidenote (because there really is no other way to sidenote here), I cracked an egg this morning and a chicken fetus came out... like way past the yolk phase. Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?

And never underestimate the power of Under Armour HeatGear activewear.

[BONUS CAT]

Suffering is Optional

"Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.

Say you're running and you start to think, Man this hurts, I can't take it anymore. The hurt part is an unavoidable reality, but whether or not you can stand anymore is up to the runner himself."

Today I had this overwhelming urge to go to Barnes and Noble after work. I love that labyrinth of literature. I didn't have a certain book in mind to purchase, I just knew I couldn't stand one more subway ride home reading AM New York or making to-do lists over and over in my mind while simultaneously thinking about all of the communicable diseases I was going to attract by holding the pole on the train.  I wasn't going to remember to use hand sanitizer, even though I would make a silent pact with myself to start... next ride.

And then I found this:

The back cover (yes, I do judge a book by its cover) reads, "An intimate look at writing, running, and the incredible way they intersect." IDENTITY CRISIS! Am I Haruki Murakami?

And just like Haru (I imagine we would be on a nickname basis if I ever met him), I am creating my own life lessons with each and every run I write about - by actually putting my body in motion and discovering that suffering is optional.

I've got some fun runs scheduled for the next few months to help me train, kiddos. Want to join? And when everyone decides to stop celebrating the most amazing gifts of matrimony and childbirth [to be read with a hint of sarcasm and jealousy], let's go for a run!

Queens 10k - July 21
Color Run NJ - August 31
Electric Run NY - September 28

Set Ups and Setbacks

When I started this blog I never really knew what it would become. I thought maybe it could turn into an outlet for some crazy dating stories (I have plenty), but then I realized I wasn't Andie Anderson from How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, and I wasn't going to find my Matthew McConaughey by writing embarrassing stories about poor guys who don't know how to socialize or are a little too feminine or aren't taller than 5'5". Which let me clarify is FINE if you don't lie about it, but I don't know how you are expecting to hide that little piece of information when I meet you in person... but that's besides the point. Hey, I know I'm no jackpot either.

I'm confused. I have no idea what I want and what I'm looking for. I'm torn everyday about what is fair and unfair in the horrifying world of dating. I make myself sick thinking about who I'm going to hurt and how I'm going to say no to people. I compare every single person to a man who didn't even think twice about me when I walked out the door. I feel broken more times than I feel strong, and I'm incredibly lonely even though you probably couldn't find someone who goes out of their way to constantly surround themselves by as many people as I do.

I also thought this blog could become a training guide for those that are less inclined to running. Then I downloaded a little app called RunKeeper off a tip from my team members. I followed the first three workouts to a science, and missed an important one this weekend because I was too busy galavanting on a pub crawl of Park Slope in the pouring rain to curse off the GoogaMooga gods. Now I've got a cold or "allergies" (does it really make a difference if you want your head to straight up pop off your body either way?), and I'm lying in my bed staring at this little man frozen in full runner's stride over the word MISSED and I'm feeling a little crummy. 

So I guess this is what they call a setback... know anyone you want to set me up with? 

Arch (and People) Support

It's happening. I'm becoming a runner... OK, let's be serious. A very brisk walker.

Earlier this week I made an essential purchase. New "running" shoes. Worthy of a blog post? Well, I got on a treadmill at a store in Brooklyn where they assessed my pronation, and twenty minutes later I was walking out with these bad boys.

Saucony ProGrid Guide 6's - a nice "soft shoe" with arch support, forefoot cushioning, mesh upper body and other features I definitely need, I think...

But as much as I'm mocking myself right now, the one thing I can tell I'm going to really like about this experience is that runners are a supportive community. From the sweet salesgirl who didn't roll her eyes at me when I told her I was running a half marathon but never heard of Brooks before to the Park Slope stranger who saw me carrying my Jack Rabbit bag down 7th Avenue and nodded at me like I was in some secret Midnight Society of runners.

And the next morning I registered for the Hershey Half Marathon in Hershey, PA. I also learned that the pace you put in while registering will determine what corral you are placed in at the starting line. Oops. See you other 14:00 milers at the Chocolate Factory!

180 Degrees of Separation

Last week I invited one of my dearest friends over for dinner.  Don't tell my mom, I was a little rusty. My dishes were all sad metaphors for my life - overcooked. Apparently, I'm over a lot of things. Overworked, overplanned, but not the one thing I wish I was over most... a man.

"You should do something for yourself. Set a goal, and when you reach it, let go of him."

And for the first time, something clicked. I didn't need to just get over him, I needed to let go of him. How? That part wasn't clear yet.

Fast forward to Tuesday. Dinner with some of my favorite Mules. Italian, of course. Catching up on everything from online dating (ugh) to five year anniversaries. What was new?

"We're training for a half marathon this October."

Then, like a slap in the face with a stick of twenty-year old prosciutto, something else became clear to me. This IS my goal. I'm not running away from my past. I'm certainly not going back to where I came from. This is my full 180. 

And because I'm oddly obsessed with countdown clocks these days thanks to another fabulous creature I know, I suddenly was compelled to see how long I had to train...  only to discover there were exactly 180 days left until the half marathon. Now if that doesn't give you goosebumps, I'm calling R. L. Stine to pay you a house visit.

And with chills and without question, I was committed to buying ridiculously overpriced running shoes and starting this blog. 180 days closer to letting go of someone who I used to care about more than myself. I'm excited to share this journey to the finish line with you, thanks for reading!