My iPod is Possessed by the Devil.

My iPod is possessed.

I’m convinced it’s the devil’s work. Who else would put Madonna’s Immaculate Collection on shuffle for an entire 14-mile slog in the middle of a wet and humid August? The infernal machine decided to skip from Track 3 to Track 12 and completely ruined any sense of continuum. Then, just for laughs, it decided to jump from track 15 to track 5. Yes: it skipped backwards. It was like it had mixed itself up with a Shuffle, but it could only play one particular Madonna album.

And frankly, my running habit is already too expensive to permit the purchase of a replacement, non-possessed iPod. Besides, a replacement would probably just get infected by some iTunes download. My only hope is that the devil will decide to haunt, say, one of my inexpensive lamps, which I could then pitch and replace without qualms. Because two and a half months of training to Madonna and only Madonna is not really going to work. No, really. I love Madge as much as the next girl, but I need variety.

Maybe I shouldn’t have bought the red one. In retrospect, that might have been asking for it. Although, I’m sort of convinced that Apple is actually the devil incarnate; maybe that was where I went wrong. Because it isn’t like this is the first iPod I’ve burned through.

That’s right: apparently I’m the only person in the world who thinks Apple products are a stupid waste of money. This being my second iPod, I can guarantee you I won’t be forking over any more money to that company until they start producing a product that works for longer than one friggin’ day after the warranty expires. Even with the damn warranty, every time you walk in to a Mac store for help from a Mac “genius” you have to fork over $60 and get a lecture about how you, a mere human, don’t deserve the absolute awesomeness that is whatever overpriced tech gadget currently malfunctioning in your hot little hand. Hahaha, you thought “genius” referred to being able to fix your machine? WRONG. It describes their facility for weaseling your credit card out of your wallet.

This is why I don’t buy Apple products. The company just sucks to deal with, and its products are attractive little boxes into which disappear your data, time, and money. At least with PCs I can get in there and mess around with the bits until they work again, if tech support is useless (which is often the case). Or at least retrieve my data without paying some zit-faced teenager three hundred dollars to scowl at me for actually trying to use whatever lovely but nonperforming piece of crap I’m bringing in.

Do I sound cranky? You’d be cranky too after hearing Madge for two and a half hours straight. I hate it when my equipment doesn’t perform. And it isn’t just my iPod that’s failed me of late. My expensive new Enell bras have chafed me badly enough to leave scars half an inch wide and two inches long on my torso. Which means I’m still without adequate bosom support, and will likely have to fork over money I don’t have for more bras I can’t return if they don’t work out.

Riddle me this, readers: why is it so damn hard to find:

• A functioning iPod
• A bra that holds your tatas in place without rubbing your skin off in big bloody patches that really sting when you’re sweating through mid-August long runs
• running shorts with pockets and WITHOUT some weird mesh liner intended to keep men’s balls in place but thoughtlessly replicated and foisted upon running women

Seriously. Who designs this shit? Whomever does the market research for these products ought to be fired. Maybe tortured by being sent on a 14-mile forced march while listening to “Vogue” on repeat.

I did have one minor breakthrough today, however: when I came home and took off my shoes, there was blood on my sock! That’s right – I have ventured into the territory reserved for real runners, where your feet begin bleeding partway through a run. Honestly, I was so annoyed with my iPod that I didn’t even notice any pain. Apparently one of my toenails was just a smidge too long and it cut into the neighboring toe during my run. What can I say? It made me feel kind of macho. I’m no glutton for punishment, however; I went out and bought a new pair of running shoes in a half-size larger than usual to prevent that from happening again. I may even buy some of those weird socks that encase your toes individually.

I also decided to try Shot Blocks from Clif Bar & Co. instead of gels during my run today. I liked them! They didn’t give me weird stomach issues like the gels sometimes do, so I think I’ll have to get more. So the run wasn’t totally worthless and painful. I discovered a new product that is a real improvement over my previous solution, and I managed to shave a couple of minutes off my half marathon time as compared to my time in the Brooklyn Half Marathon on May 30th: today I ran the same distance in 2:13:34, while my time last May was 2:15:52.

So progress is happening, in baby steps. In the meantime, if anyone knows a good exorcist, preferably one specializing in demonic iPods, by all means let me know!

Hijacking the NYT Q&A

So I’m quite enjoying The New York Times’ series on marathon training. They have some wonderful writers, such as Liz Robbins, who is probably my favorite sports writer, contributing articles to the series. But if you’ve read this blog for more than a couple of posts, I’m sure you’ve already gleaned the childish glee I take in skewering things. So my skewers below are not intended as a dig on Tara Parker-Pope’s Q&A article.

The article to which I am referring is called, of course, “The Summer Running Slump.” And did ever respond to it, because I am slumping hard.

Starting with the good bits (from the “A” portion of the article):

“I tell people, right now the goal is consistency, just getting out the door to get your runs in. The pace or how you feel is less important than it will be a few months down the line. It frees them to not put too much pressure on themselves. They’re thinking, “14 miles is so hard, how am I ever going to run 20 miles?” But if they just focus on getting out the door and being consistent, usually things will come around…”

Please, god, let them come around soon, because even though I am lucky to be training during an exceptionally cool summer, I am so feeling the drag. I did 14 miles last weekend, and reading this, I thought exactly that! How the hell *am* I going to run 20, much less 26.2? Then I re-read the article (Like most of ya’ll, I don’t read on the Innernetz, I scan) and saw that the Q&A was with none other than Greg McMillan, who is none other than the architect of my torture training program!

It was like getting personal training advice from a coach! A coach whom I have never met or talked to, but hey, on the Innernetz we’re all best friends, right? So I kept reading.

“Q:  How much does running pace right now tell us about our marathon pace in the fall?

A: You can still make a lot of improvement. If you’re a beginning runner, your rate of improvement will be greater than someone who is more experienced. You’ve got more room to improve. You can expect, and you should expect, that you improve quite a bit as the race gets closer. This is the time you’ve got to focus on just getting your running in, and just living through the initial fitness building process. When you’re building fitness, it’s always the hardest part.”

Well this is fabulous news! I thought I was pretty fit before, flying through a half-marathon in a very respectable time, thank you very much. But I guess there’s always room for improvement. This explains the fact that the only noticeable difference in my pace thus far is…nothing. Not one whit of improvement. My hamstrings are getting extraordinarily tight, though. I’ve stopped wearing heels at the office, they hurt so much, and it’s not like I wore anything higher than an inch to begin with. Hopefully they’ll stop improving soon so the rest of my body can catch up.

(Remember back in the bubble days, when Sex and the City was on TV? Remember the episode where Miranda falls in her bathroom and can’t get up and she calls Carrie to come save her, but Carrie’s a flake and sends her boyfriend instead? And she hollers something into the phone along the lines of “my body’s all fucked up from the marathon!” when Carrie resists? That’s what I envision happening to me by the time this marathon is over. Seriously. Lying on the bathroom floor, so stiff that I can’t even sit up under my own power. Why did I sign up for this again?)

Anyway. I had two major giggle moments when reading Mr. McMillan’s answers to Ms. Parker-Pope’s questions. The first was when he talked about the weather breaking:

“The hardest part right now is the weather change. People are excited about running their fall marathon, but right when you want to be feeling your best the weather changes, and it can be hot and humid. The weather keeps you from feeling good right as you’re getting started in your marathon training, and that can be kind of a bummer.”

Uh, not in New York, bud. Here the weather got stuck back on “May showers” and never progressed as far as “April flowers”, much less to summer. We still haven’t broken 90 degrees yet this summer in New York, as far as I’m aware. So if we’re counting on weather changes to make that whole improvement thing happen, this program ain’t gonna work.

But the real you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me moment came when my coach suggested an insane list of cross training activities:

Q: What else should we be doing besides running to build fitness?

A: As you get more fit, the running gets a little bit easier. Augmenting running with cross training activities can help burn calories and improve fitness. Spin classes, swimming, an elliptical trainer is great. Aqua jogging or water running is an option. If you’re a beginning runner, that’s what you want to be doing to be as fit as possible.

Uh, yeah, I’ll fit those right into my schedule! Never mind that getting up at 5:30 AM to run 4 days a week barely gets me to work on time, plus I’m cranky as an unnapped preschooler every Tuesday and Thursday from sleep deprivation! Yep! Sign me right up!

So I’m thinking about switching to the Galloway method instead. While I’d dearly love to run a marathon in less than 4 hours – which theoretically means shaving thirty minutes off of my expected time, based on the half-marathon – it’s going to take more than a break in some comparatively pleasant weather to make that happen.

Have I made a tactical error in choosing this training program?

What do you think – drop it in favor of the Galloway method, or stick with it and see what happens in September?

Jumping on the Recession Bandwagon: The Cost of Running

This morning’s Wall Street Journal had an interesting article about a marathoner named Seth Matheson, who has multiple sclerosis. Apart from being impressed with his incredible dedication to running and resulting race results, what struck me was the section on how much Seth spends on gear each year:

“Mr. Matheson estimates that he spends about $1,000 a year on workout clothing. Overheating is one of the symptoms associated with MS so Mr. Matheson buys wick-proof clothing which repels sweat (he prefers Nike Dri-Fit shirts). He will also wear organic cotton T-shirts and built-in compression shorts, which are similar to bike shorts. He wears Saucony Progrid Ride sneakers ($85) and usually goes through three to four pairs a year.

Mr. Matheson belongs to an athletic club and will also occasionally drop in at other gyms to take classes. He estimates his gym fees add up to about $200 a month. Fees for his soccer league cost about $75 per season.

Mr. Matheson has a single-speed, fixed-gear commuter bike that cost about $1,000. His Cervelo Soloist racing bike cost about $3,000.”

Now, it makes sense to me that the Wall Street Journal, which is after all dedicated to all things financial, would include some cost analysis. My estimate, based upon the figures in the article, are that Mr. Matheson spends approximately $4,500 a year (assuming that the bikes don’t need annual replacement, but do need tuneups, new tires, etc.). That isn’t chump change, and it made me start thinking about how much I spend on my running habit. I have to say that this is not a cheap hobby.

Typically I shell out between $15 and $20 per race, plus $40 a year for membership to New York Road Runners. Last year when I was qualifying for the marathon, I ran 10 races, so let’s say around $200 plus the $40 membership. Then there’s shoes: I buy two pairs a year at around $120 a pair (I like Mizunos, which are apparently more expensive). Orthotics are another $40 per pair of shoes. Socks, sports bras and shorts are another $200 or so ($70 per bra, $30-$40 for shorts). I don’t buy running tops, but I do like my gear: Garmin 405, iPod, specialized sport headphones. Marathon registration was another $170, plus there’s the copays from physical therapy required for running-related injuries. I’d say that I spend at least a $1000 per year on my supposedly inexpensive hobby.

It takes time, too. I could spend the time doing many other things (reading? I miss fiction.), but at the end of the day, running is my therapy. It’s time I purchase for myself, and the achievements last longer than any mani-pedi or sample sale shopping spree. By spending money on quality gear, I make the time I spend running as comfortable as possible. And that, to my mind, is money well spent – when it must be spent.

How do you reconcile the cost of running with your well-being? How are you coping with the expenses of sports activities in light of the recession?

Race Report: 5/30/09 Brooklyn Half Marathon

Yesterday I ran 13.1 miles through Brooklyn, which gave me a a small taste of what the full marathon is going to feel like. Although I can’t say I’d yet like to go back for seconds, it really was a good run.

Some stats:

Weather conditions: Mid-to-high seventies, mostly sunny, low humidity.

Course: Hilly for the first 7 miles through Prospect Park, then a long flat run along Ocean Parkway to Coney Island. [link to course map]

Time: 2:15:52

Average Pace: 10:22

Before I get back to my regularly scheduled snark, I’d like to start by saying that I’m really pleased with my pace. Last year, before I decided to run more seriously and sought physical therapy for my knee problems, I ran the same race (in the opposite direction) in 2:37:24. So I ran this year’s course a whopping 22:28 minutes faster than last year. My goal time this year was 2:10, but I’m happy anyway. It was nice to be solidly in the middle of the pack instead of bringing up the rear. That said, I would like to complete the marathon in 4:30, which would be slightly under a 10-minute mile. This means I need to get faster.

The day was warmer than I would have liked, but honestly this was partly my problem because I was woefully unprepared. I’ve carped previously about how I dislike running in warm weather: it gives me a headache and makes me want to barf, and I would go so far as to say that the scientists who claim that you can adapt to running in the heat are flat-out liars. It occurred to me as I looked around at other racers that maybe I just need better equipment so as not to exacerbate the discomfort inherent to running in the heat. For one thing, I was in capri-length CWX running tights. For another, I was wearing a sports bra that is at least two years old and black. I was wearing one thing that might make it onto the Approved Warm-Weather Running Gear List, but only in the event that no other acceptable substitute is available: a white t-shirt. In short, I was one unfashionable and uncomfortable runner on Saturday.

And if you don’t think there is running fashion, you have clearly never been on the wrong end of it. The fashion is naked. Apparently, even in January, the most appropriate thing to wear while running is as close to nothing as possible. When it’s hot out, I get this. My bosoms do not. They love the support that comes from Spandex. My behind is not a thing of glory. It does not want to be lovingly encased in Spandex, although for that matter it was during the race, to the point of looking like a strained sausage.  I was the only moron not wearing tiny shorts, and the most anyone else covered-up was one of those absurd running skirts. I really think that if one is going to be engaging in athletic activities, one should expect the probability that people are going to be able to see up your skirt. Either wear shorts or just get one of those bikini-esque things that elite athletes run in and quit being coy about displaying camel-toe in public.

Last year I was in the bathroom after having waited 30 minutes for a stall when the starting gun went off. This year I was hoping that the new course arrangement would mean additional bathrooms. It did not. This year I was again hopping from foot to foot outside the Port-a-Potties when the gun went off. I really hope this doesn’t happen at the marathon proper, or I swear I’m going to not drink any liquids for a week before the race. If I’m wearing my no-longer-fashionable-but-too-expensive-to-discard CWX capris, everyone will probably mistake me as someone running the marathon dressed up as dried-up piece of beef jerky.

All in all, though, it was a good race. And my determination to get some good warm-weather running gear means I’ll be able to go shopping and start doing gear reviews! Wohoo!

NYT “Well” Series on Marathoning

Apologies for the lack of posting, the long runs have been taking over my life as I ramp up for the Brooklyn Half Marathon in a week, and I’ve also been sidelined with a little guest posting for another blog. It has nothing to do with running, but if you’re into ogling expensive real estate, you might want to meet my other online persona, Evnyc. Check it out here. The internet is a fantastic tool for those of us who were always kind of jealous of Eve and thought multiple personality disorder was kinda cool, even though it doesn’t actually exist.

Yesterday I had one of the best runs of my life thus far. It was simply gorgeous out, and the prospect of going to work was unbearable. I wanted to run and run and run. So I called out from work and laced up my shoes and did just that, for twelve miles. It was work, don’t get me wrong, especially the last mile or so. But once I had finished, I didn’t feel wrecked. I felt a little sleepy, so I slathered on some sunscreen and went out on the lawn (public; this is New York) with a beach towel and took a nap in the sun. Then I went shopping and rode my bike up the West Side to meet some friends. I felt so good that I was even able to wear heels – after a 12-mile run. That has never happened before. It was awesome.

However, you happen to be my boss and you’re reading this, then I’m going to substitute my experience last week running 11 miles as my excuse for calling out sick. Last Saturday I got up late, ate too large a breakfast, and ended up running when the sun is high in the sky along a poorly chosen path in direct sun. I spent the rest of the afternoon on the couch with a headache, unable to eat anything at all. I downed half a bottle of Pepto Bismol and finally fell asleep, and I woke up the next day with a severe headache. It’s alarming how the symptoms of running too much in bad weather can mimic a hangover, although honestly, being hungover feels better. Regardless, alcohol was not involved in the yucky feelings, I swear.

Which brings me to The New York Times. Upon arriving at work on Monday, I was thrilled to see that they are going to do a series about the New York Marathon.  They’re off to an excellent start, interviewing Kara Goucher and having Liz Robbins follow up with some of the people she interviewed for her book A Race Like No Other. I’m really looking forward to the rest of the series. It’s an all-star sports writing lineup, and written with newbies in mind. I’ll be doing more analyses of the articles in upcoming posts.
In the meantime, I’m about to embark on a holiday weekend that isn’t going to involve any running, just lots and lots of wine. Happy long weekend, readers!

And Now Presenting My Formerly Unknown Twin

On Saturday I ran for nine long miles. Count ‘em, I ran nine miles in 1:28 and change. I know, not exactly the spectacular result I was hoping for after my recent forays into 8-minute-mile territory, but still: it didn’t hurt (my knee, anyway) and in the process, I discovered that I am not alone in my marathon endeavor. Yes, on any given morning there seem to be a couple hundred runners out there at 6:00 AM, but I thought I was the only one training. I mean, a marathon is serious stuff, right? Clearly these recreational runners breezing by me are just out doing a short, fast run for fun.

Turns out that life spices up a bit if you get off your high horse and start talking to people. For one thing, I have a twin! Or a doppelganger, I’m not sure. For the record, I was not aware of this outfit when I started blogging. I picked my blog name because a) I liked the sound and b) everything else I tried was already taken. Enter www.runnyc.com (warning, the site doesn’t seem to be functional yet).

I found out about this when, at the end of Mile 9, reeking to high heaven I’m sure, I stopped at the shack that’s parked along the West Side Highway at Chambers St. This shack looks remarkably like my father’s ice-fishing shacks, only slightly larger – perhaps purchased from Home Despots. It’s been closed since I moved into the neighborhood. Even though I was probably more offensive to the olfactory system than a rotting zombie corpse, I stopped to check it out. It’s the Nike Runner’s Station, and no shit – they give you FREE THINGS.

Like hair ties. And Band Aids, and SUNSCREEN! This is gonna save me a fortune. I can also buy Gu at this place for cheap(ish), which might not be such a bad idea as the mileage creeps up. They have Nike shoes you can try (I like Mizunos and Sauconys, but hey, free is free) and bulletin boards with runner meet-ups and training runs. This is where I got a little shock at the thought that people were actually reading my blog, just not commenting! (Hint, hint, I know you’re there. WordPress includes free stats.) Then I wised up and realized that someone else had thought of the same fab URL and had the good sense to register it first. So now I just hope I don’t get sued or anything, because it was an accident. Honest! It’s like a romance novel or something!

And to conclude, I’m going to tell you a story about hustlin’ in the city, mostly because I can’t figure out a more graceful way to shoehorn this story into my post.

Walking through Grand Central Terminal this evening during rush hour (read: chock-a-block with people as only New York can deliver) I saw a little shadow scurrying toward the train platform. Well, not that little, about the size of a young mouse. I looked a little more closely and realized that it was a very large cockroach running desperately to make his train. Apparently even cockroaches commute. I realized that I was completely unfazed by the presence of the insect when up ahead of me, someone dropped a pocketful of change.

If you’ve ever tried to stop in the middle of a crowd in New York, you probably know that it’s akin to getting steamrolled. Wisely, whomever had dropped the change declined to stop and pick it up, which meant that a coin about the size of the cockroach rolled right by my foot. I’m quick, I’m flexible, and nothing will stop me in my tracks like free money, so I leaned down and scooped it up, and was rewarded with a Susan B. Anthony silver dollar! Wohoo!

When I first moved to the city I would have had the cockroach heebie-jeebies so bad that nothing could have enticed me into scooping up a lost dollar. Now, I’m thinking of switching careers to “free money finder.” Because the day before that I found ten bucks on the ground, sopping wet but still legal. My goal is a hundred bucks by the end of the week, so feel free to throw some change my way! Just don’t include any cockroaches in the mix. Please.

Scorching!

Last weekend gave me a little taste of the summer to come. An unpleasant taste, actually. During the last mile of my run, my head nearly exploded from the heat. I mean this literally, in that it felt as though gysers of blood would start gushing from my ears at any moment during the last mile. I had a headache for the rest of the day, but at least I made it home without actually spewing gore on all the other active types out there.

A friend had the bad luck of running the MORE Half Marathon in Central Park on Sunday, which was actually canceled because it was so hot. According to the New York Road Runners,

“This year, in response to unseasonably warm race-day conditions, race officials made a prudent decision: They canceled the marathon (26.2 miles) and conducted the half-marathon (13.1 miles) as an unscored, noncompetitive event in which slower walkers were encouraged to exit the course after seven miles.”

This friend, whom I shall call SuperWoman because she is one hell of a runner, told me that it was so packed that she could hardly put one foot in front of the other. While I don’t doubt that NYRR made the right call in light of what happened in Chicago in 2007, I’ve run races like that myself and have to say they are really, really challenging, both mentally and physically. If anything, you feel even hotter because you can’t break out of the pack. During one race I ran with Dingo last summer, NYRR had hoses spraying into the air, providing some welcome relief from the 88 degree weather. Apart from those too-brief showers, though, that short race was brutal for both of us. Dingo was looking how I felt last Sunday morning – as though her head was about to explode – and I kept thinking I was going to have to drag her home to Mr. Dingo in pieces and get my ass kicked. Happily, we made it to the finish line, where Stoogepie met us with a huge frosty cocktail shaker of ice-cold Gatorade martinis and all was well, but it was a near thing.

The Lying Weather Forecasters tell me that it’s going to be cooler this weekend, but since they are inherently untrustworthy I will conclude with two heartfelt wishes: please, Universe, don’t let it be hot on November 1st, 2009, defined as anything above 60 degrees; and, if you are going to be training like me in the hot hot summer sun, be careful out there! Do NOT drink too much water. If you feel faint, slow down or stop. Try to run early in the morning or in the evening and preferably in the shade if possible. Don’t push yourself in hot weather. Believe me, no one likes seeing your head explode. It just isn’t pretty.

Relearning How to Run

Normally I don’t blog at work, but today is a warm, sunny Friday, preceding a weekend for which Weather.com is offering 80 degree weather predictions. Pop quiz: how many students do you really think are going to hang around the library on a sunny Friday afternoon late in the second semester?

If you guessed any number over 2, you clearly have never been to college, or you had some bizarrely misplaced priorities while you were there. I assume the two students here today must be failing their classes AND actually care about the possibility of failure, because otherwise they would be outside sunning themselves like so many iguanas.

Also I have not received an email in nearly an hour, an unprecedented occurrence that leads me to believe that some of those half-naked figures on the lawns outside the library are actually my colleagues.*

With that mildly alarming thought out of the way, let’s get back to the topic at hand: running.

As in, at the age of 30, I am re-learning how to run all over again, and boy does it feel weird. I was so sure I’d figured this out, oh, 28 years ago? Then my physical therapist gave me some exercises to correct weaknesses in my hips and my ankle, and now running just feels wrong, difficult, and unfamiliar. I have to work to remember to make my foot roll when it hits the ground, and to keep my arms at my sides instead of flinging them across my body like I normally do. Suddenly I am working on my form, and while it is definitely improving both my running times and my knee, mentally it feels a lot harder. I can’t just zone out to Goldfrapp as I pound out the miles any more.

The orthotics also don’t seem to be doing quite the same thing that my fauxthotics did for my gait. I still get some knee pain when I run. And I am running. I am, in fact, doing some speed work in the form of sprints during my 3-mile training runs. I just haven’t been blogging about it. I’m a little disappointed that the orthotics weren’t a panacea.

This weekend, however, offers a golden opportunity for me to write about my least favorite running conditions: warm weather. I feel as though I am staring at a race through the Sahara when I think of all the training I’m going to have to do this summer. It makes me want to compensate with a nap and a beer.

Assuming I manage to stave off temptation, expect a nice long post this weekend on how much I hate running any time it’s over 60 degrees outside. I have a big test on Sunday that I’m sure will induce serious procrastination in the form of blogging.

*Thank goodness, the President just emailed all of campus a copy of the school’s updated drug and alcohol policy, probably in preparation for the gorgeous weekend that will undoubtedly involve lots of drug and alcohol abuse by students. It is a small comfort to know that at least the school President is not half-naked on the lawn.

All Systems Go!

Today was my last appointment with my physical therapist! Sniff. I mean, yay! While I will miss his metaphors, I am very happy to get the PT seal of approval to run again – without pain, this time. I also have permission to do the Brooklyn Half Marathon at the end of May. Since I’m the cautious sort, I’m going to get my real orthotics and go for a run before signing up, just to see how it goes, but I’m psyched!

My secret twin – fraternal; sadly, we look nothing alike, and she is much prettier than I am – told me that this year the course is going to be reversed. For those unfamiliar with the race, this means that instead of starting in Coney Island and running to Prospect Park, we’ll be running the opposite direction. I plan to imagine myself as Jean-Pierre Léaud in Les Quatre Cents Coups (The 400 Blows), running from his unbearable life to the ocean, where metaphysical enlightenment continues to elude him. (Oops. I pulled a Brittney Spears and did it again. I’d make a terrible film reviewer. Sorry.)

Last year when I ran this race, it was quite the cultural experience. Living in Manhattan it isn’t uncommon to see Hasidic Jews around town, but even when you read about enclaves of Jews one tends to forget that they exist right here in New York. Or maybe that’s just my myopia. Anyway, it was quite something to be running up from Coney Island through Ditmas Park and be surrounded by these soberly dressed families who pretty clearly did not approve of Spandex-clad runners thundering through their streets. Actually, Fred Lebow, one of the founders (the founder?) of the New York Marathon was from a conservative Jewish family, and this is part of the reason that the marathon goes through heavily Jewish neighborhoods. Also, I have to imagine that those routes just make sense, but there’s an interesting account of Fred’s sometimes fraught reltationship with the Orthodox Jewish community in a book entitled Anything for a T-Shirt. It’s a pretty good read; I recommend looking for a copy at your local library.

My favorite marathon book, however, is Liz Robbins’ A Race Like No Other. Not only does she have a great writing style, she seems to have a good way with people and a lot of sympathy for the rigors of training. I’d recommend this book to anyone even considering the New York Marathon.

Last year’s Brooklyn Half hurt. My green goodness, did it ever hurt. It was quite a scene trying to get home: I was one of probably twenty or so people clinging to the railings and limping with great difficulty down the stairs into the subway. There was not one single part of me that wasn’t seriously in pain last year. I was shivering so hard on the subway home that I nearly shook the train right off its rails. I spent the rest of the day in the bathtub in very hot water, and then I fell asleep in the midafternoon for a really long time.

Here’s hoping that this year that happens again, minues the cripling knee pain! You’ll just have to picture me holding up my glass and toasting yours.

Horseshoes, Lucky Side Up

The fauxthotics worked! Saturday I ran four whole miles without my knee going crazy. I was even able to walk, just fine, for the rest of the day. It was great, just like old times when me and my knees would go for two-hour runs. Except this time it was more like forty minutes and it just felt like two hours.

Afterward I g-chatted a friend who is also training for a marathon. She has trained for these before. “Four miles, huh?” she remarked, unimpressed. “You have some training to do.” Yes, thank you, Marian-my-secret-twin, I do. I’d be looking forward to it if I felt confident that my knee problems were solved, but part of me remains skeptical. My PT is leaving me in two more sessions. What if the fix isn’t permanent? What if I wind up like Simon Pegg in Run Fat Boy Run, limping across the finish line?* And I wouldn’t even have a manufactured-conflict plot-driving injury to make my story more interesting. I don’t want to cross the finish line whining about my knee. I want it to be joyous and triumphant, like the Jesus thundering through the eye of the camel or however that Bible story goes that I vaguely remember from sleeping through church as a child. (Sorry, mom.)

In a word, I demand trumpets. Anyone willing to trumpet my arrival – you are NOT to blare trumpets for the rest of the pack, mind you, this is just for me, assuming you can pick me out of the other suffering marathoners – at the finish line in Central Park, drop me an email with your resume listing your trumpeting skills and let’s talk. Angel wings optional, but since the race is immediately after Halloween I’d bet you could get a wicked discount on a nice feathered set over in the West Village.

WAIT A SECOND HERE. The race is on November 1st! How did I not realize this earlier?! There goes my Halloween!

That’s it, this is an official call for musical and costumed support on race day. I’m counting on YOU to make up for the fact that I’m going to have a sucky time on my favorite holiday just so I can injure myself by running a crazy distance through the streets of the city I love. You heard me: Angel wings are no longer optional for trumpeters. Zombies, witches, and other creatures also welcome. Musical instruments welcome but optional; no experience playing them necessary.

*Spoiler alert. Shoulda mentioned that earlier, but frankly the movie wasn’t that good – it’s no Hot Fuzz for the running set.