A Childhood State

It seems I have reverted back to some "old style"

 

"It's hard to dance with the devil on your back. So, shake him off.."

Oh, you thought I was done?

hahaha nope! I'm in full swing marathon fever. (This better keep up, because I'm going to need this adrenaline this year!)

This was always my favoite image during the NYC marathon. I would sit in front of the TV and watch the beginning each year just to catch this shot of the runners starting out over the Verrazano Bridge from Staten Island.

Amazing!

Also, my knee is seriously hurting today. I think it is sympathy pains from watching the marathoners yesterday.

Stuff my boyfriend says...

Me: "I just saw Mario Lopez run by"
Him: "Is he sexy in real life?"
Me: "Yep!"
Him: "I figured."

You are amazing!

I screamed and clapped and called out every name I could spot. It is my hope that someday, some stranger will do the same to me.

I spent most of the day at that same 24 mile banner cheering on the runners as they came around the bend. "How much longer until 24?" some of them called out. "Just around the bend!" we would yell back - the finish was so close they could taste it.

I've spent a lot of time thinking about whether or not I am the type to run a marathon. Today, I realized that there is no type of person that runs a marathon. Today's marathoners were tall, short, skinny, fat, young, and old. There were people of all different nationalities, people that had traveled far from home and people who walked to the start from their homes. Anyone CAN be a marathoner, but not everyone IS a marathoner. I think that is what inspires me most.

Marathon Training: Day 1

Did I tell you I'm running a marathon? No? Oh, well, add me to the list of stupid idiots that think running 26.2 miles in one morning is a good decision.

So, I'm running a marathon sometime in 2012. Now that we've got that out of the way, let's talk about day one.

The New York City ING Marathon will begin tomorrow morning. The city is in a full marathon mode, barricades are set up, the path is properly labeled with banners and flags, signs are in store windows, congratulating tomorrow's runners. So what better time to start the training for MY marathon than today? The ultimate goal is to run the NYC marathon in exactly one year. (Note: it can be really difficult to get in to run the NYC marathon, which is a crazy idea if you think about it - it is HARD to gain access to run 26.2 miles. So Philly or DC may have to take NYC's place if I can't get in.)

This morning, Craig and I went to Central Park to run around the Jackie O. Reservoir.  The 1.6 mile loop would be a perfect start to our running "careers". We would go around twice, just over 3 miles. I take a spin class several times a week, do weekly cardio classes, yoga, swim, pilates, certainly running 3 miles wouldn't be a bad place to start. We walked over, arms crossed against the chilly wind, excited to begin this journey. At the reservoir, we noticed the marathon flags. "They'll run down this road tomorrow," Craig said, and I thought about how I might run down that road in one year. I was excited.

We started running at a steady pace together and I was feeling good. The leaves were beautiful in the park and the water glistened in the sunlight. And then it hit me: a cramp. Already! We stopped and walked for a bit, the cramp subsided and so we picked it back up again. I was surprised that running didn't hurt my knees or my hips, and I didn't even feel a burn in my muscles! At the mile point, my hand found my abdomen again as the cramp swelled back up. Suddenly, the other side cramped up as well. Breathing in started to feel like knives being jammed into my ribcage and I slowed to a walk again. Craig ran ahead and I walked with my hands rubbing the knots in my stomach. At one point, a man walking with his new-to-two-legs child passed me. I caught up with Craig and he could see it on my face. "What's wrong?" he said. "I can't do this," I lamented back, "Why can't I do this?"

And there it happened. I cried. I cried with over half a mile to go before I got back to the starting point. The point where I intended to start a second lap. I cried from the pain of the cramps and the headache I started to feel. I cried for the second lap I knew I could never complete. I cried from the disappointment I felt in myself. Craig walked with me a bit and eventually the cramping subsided, along with the tears. At the bend in the path, I decided that I would push myself, push past the pain and the disappointment and complete the last half a mile to the starting point.  So we did. We ran together through the last bit of the reservoir loop.

At the end of the loop, we made our way out of the park. Crossing the street, the 24 Mile banner hung over the road. 2.6 miles past that point was the NYC Marathon finish line. And I couldn't even make it 1.6 miles around the reservoir.

Let's just say, there is work to be done.

Elon, and a note about forgiveness

Last week, this video made the rounds on almost all of the social networking sites. I caught it from a twitter post and before the nearly 3 minutes were up, I had tears in my eyes.  You see, there is a sense of pride in every Elon student. Just as it says in the video, I don't know any student that doesn't feel that way, that doesn't look back on their time there with nostalgia. But for me, it brought on very a very different type of emotion. I was sad, very sad. And angry.

Part of me feels robbed of my college experience because of the relationship I was in. I didn't participate in all that I could have because I felt I had to be constantly "on call" waiting for phone calls from another part of the world. I spent so much of my time trying to make a long-distance relationship work that I had no other time for non-scholarly events. In the scene where the graduates are excitedly staring at their degrees, hugging family members, and posing for pictures, I can only remember the disappointment I felt because he had not shown up. I only wanted to be out of there.

In many ways, I have come to a place of forgiveness in light of what transpired in that relationship; but, when it comes to my college experience, knowing everything I could have had, I can only feel that twinge of regret and anger. I hate that my college memories, ones that are supposed to be remembered with fondness, are sprinkled with nauseating memories of hurt. He took a lot more from me than I realized at the time, and I'm not ready to forgive that.