3 lessons learned from running the Boston Marathon

1. 
How to eat and run. 
Before marathon training, eating while running was a skill I had only attempted once, at running camp. If I'm honest, it was "eating lunch, then running 10 minutes later," but who's counting. When you're running a marathon, you have to eat. Unless you're a sub-3 marathoner, you're burning over 1000 calories an hour and no amount of Gu, Powergel, and Gatorade can replenish those lost calories quickly enough. No matter how sensitive your stomach is, you must learn to eat and run. You also must learn to eat and run and not puke or choke, because puking leads to dehydration and choking leads to respiratory distress, and neither of these are conducive to successful marathon running.

I started small. On our training runs, I'd take an orange slice off the table every couple of miles and start there. This led me to a discovery: At age 19, I had never eaten a straight up orange. Those things are complicated. I've since learned how, but still... What a weird fucking fruit. It's all stringy and gushy and texturally unpredictable.

Then I moved onto carbs. Pretzels worked well, I realized, unless you broke the golden rule and forgot to chug water immediately after eating said pretzel. This led to me almost choking to death in Framingham, in February of 2004, dressed in red from head to toe on a Valentine's Day-themed 16-miler. Oops. Lesson learned.

I'm happy to report that this skill continues to be useful in my life. I haven't run a marathon since, but I'm still a distance runner, and it's not uncommon for me to go on a 14-miler with several waffles strapped to my arms. It also means I can eat something in the middle of boxing class and not upchuck. I can also all-out sprint down Comm Ave looking for a cab 36 seconds after stuffing my face.



2. 
Peeing your pants is badass. 
I realize this goes against everything we've been taught since being potty trained, but when you're a marathon runner, you're badass, and badasses don't wait in line for the bathroom. It doesn't matter how slowly you're going, if you're waiting in line to use a porta potty, you're STOPPED. Zero miles per hour. And I wouldn't know, but I'd expect the following dialogue to be running through your head: "So.. I've put 6 months into training for this race and I'm waiting in line for 5 minutes in the middle of it to pee... While the clock is still running..."

It makes no sense to STOP to pee. Not to mention the fact that you're already covered in so much dirt and sweat and blood and pus (throughout the course of a marathon, you get blisters, they pop, and you get more), is pee really going to make you that much grosser? The answer is no. Suck it up.

On the 8th day, God created fancy fabric that wicks away moisture, so fucking buy some. Go all out and by dri-fit underwear if you want to. I didn't bother. I just went with bike shorts. But whatever floats your boat.

One time I met Uta Pippig and she complained to me about everyone asking her constantly about her messy marathon. She got her period, didn't stop, got the runs, peed, and kept going. I mean really, if I could run a marathon that fast, I wouldn't care what was on my skin while I did it. RESPECT.

Related sidenote: Peeing your pants is actually quite difficult. Your entire torso is clenched together, and you can't really stop and sit down, so you have to kind of un-clench part of your torso while still clenching enough ab muscles to keep yourself running. I actually had to stop and walk to make this happen the first time I peed.



3. 
Weight training is key. 
I was a naive child at 19. I thought I could just run and that would be enough to stay thin and fit and strong. As is evidenced from the pictures taken during that time period, clearly that was not the case. Take it from me: You might make it through a 21-mile training run with no arm strength. You might think you're fine, because running is legs. You would be wrong. When you hit mile 21.5, your arms start to burn. The pain slowly extends into your delts, lats, and pecs, to the point when you feel each pump in excruciating, slow-motion detail, and it hurts so badly you picture the muscle fibers ripping as you move. Then they get heavy, and it hurts to lift them. By this point you're in Brookline, so it's not too hilly, but you still need to pump your arms to move your legs in sync and it hurts so much you start tearing up. No one notices because by this point you're covered in 27 layers of sweat. You try briefly to run with your arms floating by your sides, but they don't float, they drop heavily and the impact shoots through your shoulders and you instantly regret that decision.


Do not make the same mistake I did. Make your arms strong too. Just trust me.

9:18 minute miles

I just ran 9 miles at 9:18 / mile pace. I AM ON FIRE.

I realize that this is not fast for many people. However, for ME? This is fast. I can run considerably faster if I'm running 4 or 5 miles only, but this is the first time I've been able to maintain that pace for 9. 9 glorious miles, during which I passed 5 men. FIVE!

I don't even know what happened. I wish I knew. I wish I had the boys XC team from HS or college to psychoanalyze it for me, because lord knows I can't figure it out on my own. I'm just going to walk around on a cloud of awesome for as long as I can.

I think Boston might be a reality this year. I need to get my weekly mileage up, in a serious way, but if I can run 9 miles on Thursday and then again on Sunday, BOTH times with a good pace... I'm feeling very, very good about this.

However, I feel like I rode a camel for 5 hours. My hip flexors are toast. But damn do I feel good.

Anyone want to run sometime? Preferably someone who's faster than I am? I really need to push myself to do the shorter runs at a quicker pace.

XO

I love running

I just ran 9 miles and it was awesome.

Starting out, I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I started out slowly. My legs felt... well, you know how there are those runs when your legs feel like lead? This wasn't one of those... it was a heavy feeling, but more similar to sandbags. It was impossible to find a rhythm. NOT in the zone.

Then I started to reminisce. Whenever this happens, I am always amazed at how many memories I have of running. My life is full of incredible things, but running is one love that's been around longer than many others.

Though now that I think about it, I've had many long-term lovers.

• ballet
• rum
• dancing
• torn sweatshirts, legwarmers, general Flashdance attire
• costumes
• peanut butter
• men with broad shoulders
• cars with spare tires on the back
• Backstreet Boys
• writing
• reading
• bass
• summer
• obscenely bright nail polish

Anyway back to running. It's amazing to me how much I remember. Hundreds of races later, I can still remember the way my feet felt in flip-flops on the dead grass at the Brown Invitational. I still remember the indoor track practice when we ran in the rain, and I realized that if I didn't brush my hair, I had ringlets. I remember putting makeup on after practice to go lift weights with the boys. I remember reminiscing about that a couple of years ago over mojitos and giggling hysterically. I remember which boys didn't race in underwear, how much every monogrammed sweatshirt cost, and every time I got partially (or entirely) naked in public to change because the baathrooms were too far away. Crosby dancing. My famous kick. Grandma Dorothy at my XC meet frosh year. My nickname freshman year at UMass, assless wonder ("it's a wonder she can sit down at all, let alone run!). Oh, and that BITCH who stomped on my foot during the first 100 meters of that race at Roger Williams. Her spikes tore a hole in the top of my spikes, and when I finished, there was blood up to my ankle. Jam sessions with Emerson XC in KB's apartment (she had probably 10 instruments). Early morning Dunkin while waiting at Boylston/Tremont for the bus. Peeing my pants three times during the marathon (I was SO PROUD of that. It's surprisingly difficult). 

By this point I was running much faster. I was listening to that Black Crowes song, She talks to Angels, and I sped up. Then BRMC's Weight of the World. Then Britney (YES). 

Good God it felt good. My knees were sore by the end but I was f-ing flying. 

I should mention that by the kayaking place (so, 3-4 miles to go), it started pouring. I had just run over the Harvard Footbridge and I figured, well, fuck it, I might as well keep going. I try not to run in the rain, because now it matters when I get sick, but this was by accident, so I figured it was okay. 

I love running in the rain. There's something so primal and strong and fantastic about not letting any weather get in your way as a runner. It's one of the many reasons I loved training for Boston. You're required to do most of your long runs in subzero weather. By the tiime you get to the marathon, it's a balmy 70 and you're like "Really? I was worried about this? I ran in weather so cold when I peed in the woods it froze before hitting the ground." True story, btw. 

Now I'm soaked and freezing and I smell like feet but hell I am SO HAPPY. 

And I ran fast. :) It felt fantastic. 

Love you all. 

YAY HEARTBREAK HILL!!!

JUST like that, I'm back at running camp

the way the chilly air is hitting me through my window reminds me of foss. i smell pine. i feel anticipation. 5, 7, 9 tomorrow? more? less? who cares, as long as i'm moving.

satiny feel of my sleeping bag. always the navy one. softer.

sometimes i thought i could hear other cabins talking quietly. could have been crickets.

that burn of wanting, waiting, excitement.

i remember.

lw

The "Older man in denial about losing hair who wants to smell like a cedar closet full of newspapers, sweaters, mahogany and leather" brand of shampoo

According to Google's walking directions, it is 9.3 miles to my parents' house. I am tempted. But I have no iPod, because it is buried somewhere in a pile of clothes.

Pros:

• I have been lazy all day, so I should run. Instead of going on the super run I planned, I sat on my bum all day and read poetry. I told myself I was researching for the unit I'm teaching soon, but that's just how I justified it.
  
• I would get in better shape.
• I would get one step closer to having my legs back in fighting/miniskirt shape.
  
• Maybe I would acquire a butt. But that's a stretch.
  
• My boobs might get smaller if I run 9.3 miles, because I might lose weight miraculously, and sweet God am I sick of them.
• It will increase my cardiovascular strength.
  
• Running makes me happy.
  
• My parents will be surprised to see me sans minivan.
  
• I will save gas by not driving.
  
• I will save the planet by not driving and releasing toxic chemicals into the atmosphere.
  

Cons:

• It will take a while. Not 3 hours, because I will run, but it will take me a while.
  
• My back hurts, and my knees hurt.
  
• I am still dehydrated from that horrible drink last night. Why disguise it as a drink? Why pretend it's some classy mix of flavors? Why not just be honest and call it "whiskey on the rocks?"
  
• I am still out of shape. Maybe this is too much of a jump.
  
• I have no spare clothes at my parents' house. I would have to attend their dinner party in sweaty running clothes.
  
• I have no shampoo at my parents' house. I would have to shower and use my dad's brand of shampoo, "Older man in denial about losing hair who wants to smell like a cedar closet full of newspapers, sweaters, mahogany and leather" brand.
  
• My shoes are biting the dust. They might not have the shock absorption or medial support to carry me through 9.3 consecutive miles.
  
• I can't listen to U2!
• My inhaler is almost out of juice.
  
• I would be late, and my mom would yell at me.

Well, after all that, my mom just called and forbade me to run. I may be an adult, but you don't disobey DiAnne. Not if you know what's good for you. Love you mom. Not that you remember me giving you this blog address, but on the off chance that you do... shalom alechem.

Random thoughts: What did we do before we had loofahs to use in the shower? Really, what did we do?

goede nacht
tot ziens
lw

ps: Megaboobular, since when do you have a blogspot blog? Could you post to it, so I can read it? It would make me absurdly happy. Like, jump on Oprah's Couch happy. Ben and Jerry's naming a flavor after me happy. Pants being outlawed happy. Making it to the top of Heartbreak Hill Happy. Captain Morgans happy (that one's for you).

I <3 running, I don't <3 pants...

I used to be so good at blogging. I decided to start a blog again because of a teacher from grad school. Long story short: he lost a paper I wrote. Rather than going on a joyride through my old, ruined hard drive, I elected to write it again, and OH MY GOD I had so much fun.

I forgot how much I loved to write. All my time is spent teaching adolescents to write, so I haven't been writing, and I MISS IT! So, this is my attempt to get back in the writing game. It will probably be all rambly and horrible, but you made the decision to read it, so...

So, what's going on with me? I am completely overwhelmed at work. It will probably be this way for the first couple of years, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. It's so hard creating everything from scratch for four grade levels, but at the same time, I know that if I were given a curriculum and told to teach it exactly, I would hate it. I'd rather spend the extra time making something I love.

One of my eighth graders wrote the greatest writing reflection the other day. He's a guy's guy, a self-described "not so much writer," but he wrote a fantasy story for his little brothers and they loved it so much that he's gone off the fiction deep end (in a good way). It made me happy.

Recent obsession: Twilight. One of the unexpected pleasures of teaching eighth grade is their alarming insight into themselves. My fifth graders are so oblivious, but my eighth graders are very aware of their own thoughts and feelings. That doesn't make them rational, logical human beings or anything, but still, it's interesting to hear what they think about themselves. My Twilight obsession came about because one of my eighth graders said, "Miss, I hate everything pretty much. If these books can get me to read over 2000 pages, you should definitely hit them up."

After this, I realized two things:
1. She's right. If she connected with them, I should definitely experience them.
2. I clearly have a borderline creepy love for vampires already. Think about it. I grew up watching Buffy. I loved Interview with a Vampire. I liked that short-lived cheesy show Moonlight. I OBSESS over True Blood (on HBO, go watch it, it will change your life). Clearly, another vampire story is not such a stretch.

Hmm, what else is up with me...

What author study should I do with my students? I'm already doing a mini- one on Sharon Creech, but that's more of an excuse to read Love That Dog and introduce free verse poetry. The older ones like really twisted stuff, so I'm thinking Poe, but we'll see.

Oh, I went running for the first time in forever yesterday! I got so confused. My body isn't used to running in this area. I always start in Beacon Hill, so by the time I reach the Holiday Inn on St. Paul's street and Brookline, I've been going for a few miles already. Living in Brookline completely screws it up. Marathon training is going to be challenging. I'm going to be tempted to just run home mid-run. Good thing that's not happening for a year at least.

So, I ran all around the Chestnut Hill Reservoir, and into the middle of it by accident. I'm not sure how it happened, but it all looks different in the snow. At some point I looked down and thought to myself, "If I jump really hard, I will fall into a body of water. Oops."

Anyway, I am feeling it today, but not as badly as I had expected, which is good, I suppose. 90 more miles and I can buy new sneakers, BOOYEAH.

I was also deathly ill. I still kind of sound hoarse. My students began an unofficial "use figurative language to describe our teacher's horrible voice" contest, and my favorites were:

She sounds like Lindsay Lohan after a rough night.
She sounds like an adolescent male going through puberty.
She sounds like Sylvester Stallone punched her in the voice box.

I love my creative ones.

Any other updates? Oh, HOW 'BOUT THAT TOBIN BRIDGE? One lane? Really people? I'm going to have to take the Turnpike to work. That costs $4.25. Damnit.

My vaccuum broke. It is tragic, and probably my roommate's fault.

Oh! So, our motivation for losing weight is that we're going to throw a skanky short-shorts party in late March. Thus, we will lose weight because we must look fabulous for said party. Clear your calendars... probably one of the last couple of weekends in March. My goal is to wear short shorts WITHOUT stockings. And possibly a lifeguard bathing suit. We'll see.

I should go lift weights, but I just don't like the gym. I'd rather run outside for hours than sit in a confined area letting gravity have its way with me. Plus, I'm so used to going to an all womens gym, that going to Gold's is daunting. All these huge, burly men watch me constantly. I was flattered at first, but then I realized they didn't think I was hot, rather, they were watching with a kind of horrid fascination as I failed to bench press the bar. I'm quite good at working out. I know fifty thousand exercises for each muscle, I swear, so I would look like I know what I'm doing, except... except for the fact that I'm holding 8-pound weights. The boys are nice though. They help me when I am doing something wrong.

So, I'm off to read notebooks, make food, shower, and hypothesize about the next season of the L-Word.

Goede Nacht!

--LW