"You can't die from a stomach ache. The worst that can happen is that you'll throw up. Then you can eat some more and start running again." - Jack Bristol
This guy must have heard me running. The texas heat, experiementing with nutrition and my overall lack of fortitude gives me a unique skill. I can tell how far I've run based on where I start feeling the urge to throw-up. It is quite a talent actually.
So far this week has been a little tough.
This is a blog chronicaling my journey from couch potato to Kenyan as I train to complete my first marathon and sharing the high's and lows of these seemingly impossible distances I'm running. In appreciation of your support I am writing this blog in the hopes that you find it mildly to highly entertaining and if nothing else, something to pass the time. As always, GO TEAM!
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Friday, July 16, 2010
Fear and Loathing
First post:
Let's talk about this name. I am aware that I ripped it off from the movie-but it kind of works and it is especially catchy.
Fear:
I am scared out of my mind about this marathon. Maybe working at the mile 24 waterstop at a local marathon was not my best idea. People were short of dying. I imagine this is what the end of the world might look like-everyone running in large mobs, some struggling and floundering on the pavement while the strong trample over them with ease. In leui of tidal waves and rampant fires there is a SAG wagon that will pick you up and take you home...a mobile advertisement of your lack of physical ability and lowly rank on the marathon totem pole-Steve Erkle has more prowess than you.
Darwin never traveled to the Galapagos islands, he developed "survival of the fittest" at mile 24 of this marathon. Hence, fear. Do you realize how far 26.2 miles is? Next time you go for a joy ride in your car, watch the odometer. It takes at least 30 minutes to drive that distance and yours truly is going to "run" (though I prefer to shuffle) that far. This chick must be going bananas...
There is also the fear of not being able to complete the thing. A fear of overall disappointment with myself and disappointing all my friends and family who are supporting me--not to worry-when those doubts arise I turn my music up louder (Thank you Green Day). There has been an unshakable ringing in my ears the last few days, so be sure to speak slowly and loudly the next time I see you.
Loathing:
Does this even need an explanation? I am in love with all sports and playing all sports. It's fun, it's social and most importantly violent behavior is not only tolerated but widely approved. What's not to love. It appeals to the little neandrethal in all of us. This is not running. The instinct to run is because something wants to EAT ME. I haven't seen any lions or bears running around lately so my "instinct" to run does not go further than my sprint to the kitchen table--which is also not helpful to this whole "running" gig. FURTHERMORE, every sport I have ever been a part of idealizes RUNNING as the best form of punishment. I don't disagree. I am slow and clumsy which equals falling frequently (and for now reason--Shout out to Diana) and constantly coming in last. Maybe I have a complex, but ever since these grape-stompers I call feet grew into a size that rivals Sasquatch and I learned that my "fast-twitch" muscles were really an overstock of "slow-twitch" I have loathed any notion of running. Fast, slow, away from muggers...I wouldn't do it. Hence loathing.
So why do a marathon? Obviously, the cause is a fantastic one and a great motivator but selfishly I wanted to challenge myself in a new way and succeed. As most, I've had failures. Some that were out of my control and some that I could have prevented. Some days it feels like there have been more losses than wins, some minor and some major. This marathon and it's training will not come easy and I am certain will be slightly more than torturous. However, it is in my complete control whether I win or loss-succeed or fail and that is the appeal. I am the only force that can directly determine my outcome. Because of that, my resolve is solid and I will be as tenacious as any heavy-footed klutz could be and more. Hopefully my posts will be less on the heavy side and more on the wildly entertaining side as we journey through the world of ENDURANCE TRAINING together...
With that I leave you with the inspriational words of my coach:
"Get your Irish arse up and go run!"
Let's talk about this name. I am aware that I ripped it off from the movie-but it kind of works and it is especially catchy.
Fear:
I am scared out of my mind about this marathon. Maybe working at the mile 24 waterstop at a local marathon was not my best idea. People were short of dying. I imagine this is what the end of the world might look like-everyone running in large mobs, some struggling and floundering on the pavement while the strong trample over them with ease. In leui of tidal waves and rampant fires there is a SAG wagon that will pick you up and take you home...a mobile advertisement of your lack of physical ability and lowly rank on the marathon totem pole-Steve Erkle has more prowess than you.
Darwin never traveled to the Galapagos islands, he developed "survival of the fittest" at mile 24 of this marathon. Hence, fear. Do you realize how far 26.2 miles is? Next time you go for a joy ride in your car, watch the odometer. It takes at least 30 minutes to drive that distance and yours truly is going to "run" (though I prefer to shuffle) that far. This chick must be going bananas...
There is also the fear of not being able to complete the thing. A fear of overall disappointment with myself and disappointing all my friends and family who are supporting me--not to worry-when those doubts arise I turn my music up louder (Thank you Green Day). There has been an unshakable ringing in my ears the last few days, so be sure to speak slowly and loudly the next time I see you.
Loathing:
Does this even need an explanation? I am in love with all sports and playing all sports. It's fun, it's social and most importantly violent behavior is not only tolerated but widely approved. What's not to love. It appeals to the little neandrethal in all of us. This is not running. The instinct to run is because something wants to EAT ME. I haven't seen any lions or bears running around lately so my "instinct" to run does not go further than my sprint to the kitchen table--which is also not helpful to this whole "running" gig. FURTHERMORE, every sport I have ever been a part of idealizes RUNNING as the best form of punishment. I don't disagree. I am slow and clumsy which equals falling frequently (and for now reason--Shout out to Diana) and constantly coming in last. Maybe I have a complex, but ever since these grape-stompers I call feet grew into a size that rivals Sasquatch and I learned that my "fast-twitch" muscles were really an overstock of "slow-twitch" I have loathed any notion of running. Fast, slow, away from muggers...I wouldn't do it. Hence loathing.
So why do a marathon? Obviously, the cause is a fantastic one and a great motivator but selfishly I wanted to challenge myself in a new way and succeed. As most, I've had failures. Some that were out of my control and some that I could have prevented. Some days it feels like there have been more losses than wins, some minor and some major. This marathon and it's training will not come easy and I am certain will be slightly more than torturous. However, it is in my complete control whether I win or loss-succeed or fail and that is the appeal. I am the only force that can directly determine my outcome. Because of that, my resolve is solid and I will be as tenacious as any heavy-footed klutz could be and more. Hopefully my posts will be less on the heavy side and more on the wildly entertaining side as we journey through the world of ENDURANCE TRAINING together...
With that I leave you with the inspriational words of my coach:
"Get your Irish arse up and go run!"
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