Well Marathon Fans, I broke my word. Having a rough week at work, I settled down for a margarita last Thursday to temper the immense pressures that I've assumed in the past month. And it was great...except for the part when my mother reamed me the next day for "disheartening" her. Apparently, my blurb about how I had stopped drinking now falls under the category of lying. (Whatever happened to "changing your mind"...?)
In any case, my apologies. Weak character that I am, I couldn't resist having a small happy hour. I understand if I've compromised your trust in me, and if you call me a sneaky little liar behind my back, that's fair. However, I had the best intentions in mind, but work's been a little over the top recently. (Insert shoulder shrug here.)
The taper week has officially begun. In running lingo, "taper" is a period of rest time just before you go out to run some obscene mileage. The goal is to do no more than you have already trained for: e.g. we've completed our long 20-mile run, so now we are letting our muscles recuperate and until race day, we'll be working out at smaller distances, though the same intensity. The beautiful fact of tapering is that the distances that once seemed insurmountable are now like a favorite little dessert. What's that coach? We're having chocolate cake instead of hummus and carrots for track practice?
Okay, so the metaphor's a stretch, but you get the idea...it's a delicious feeling.
I'm also excited that I will be able to get out and run more with the team. The show has ended (tear) and we had a wonderful cast party this weekend after striking the set and cleaning the theatre. Saddened that it is over, but grateful for the freed weekends. Last week was the first time I had seen the team in over a month (in a workout setting), and both I and my teammates were surprised to see each other. Everyone was running strong, and I was pleased that I could keep up with them. I have become a bit nervous these past few weeks, mainly because I had no progress gauge. I have come to appreciate running on my own, but without a teammate or coach monitoring your work, it's hard to know if you're making strides. It was a relief to find that I have kept up on my own.
The marathon is this upcoming weekend! Nervous thoughts are still fluttering around in my head, but I've managed to wrangle them in, promising myself that I will finish strong and to not worry about the timing. According to my father (seasoned marathoner that he is), I can expect to be nervous the night before, and not get a wink of sleep; I should stay in the hotel room all day Saturday and rest my legs, I should wear a plastic garbage bag over my running clothes during the first mile or so to warm up, and I should look for the "pace guy" for 5:30:00 at the start line. According to my mother (seasoned marathon fan that she is), my father's advice is completely subjective.
All that aside, I'll be packing some peanut butter and shot blocks in my suitcase (airport regulations and all that jazz) for pre-marathon breakfasting, and I have yet to settle into the thought that I've never packed for a trip that specifically involved exercising. I mean, the basis of my wardrobe will be items I can run in, comfortably. Forget packing the high heels and perfume, I'll be debating which sock length will work best for five hours of pavement running, and how much body glide I'll need to slap on Sunday morning. There's something to be said for doing something you've never done before.
The next blog will perhaps be the last, or close to it, so stay posted for results, and thanks again for supporting me thus far!
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
The Infamous Mile 19
Well, Marathon Fans, it's getting down to the grindstone. The countdown has started: T minus 18 days until the big event! Since realizing that the marathon is less than three weeks away, I've given up drinking, have been going to bed at 10pm, and have stopped eating sugar altogether. Okay, so maybe that last one is a stretch, but the drinking has ceased (believe it or not). I've also calmed down a bit since the show has opened. The weekday rehearsals have stopped, so I now get to actually see my family every once in a while. Proof that I was spending too much time away from home: my little sister didn't recognize my picture in the Crier last week. Luckily, my mom did, so she pointed out the obvious similarities to my doubtful sibling.
If you haven't caught a show yet, check out www.thepear.org for ticket information for Three Sisters, the production I will be in until September's end. I can't promise you that the show will be light, funny, and comedic. In fact, I would highly recommend you have a few drinks before you come to sober up. My parents, who came to see it last Friday, suddenly realized why I've come home this month in such a foul mood. Crying every night on stage while repeatedly berating your job, your love life, and your future will take quite a toll on a young lady such as myself.
The running has been going very well. Hill repeats have become the modus operandi as of late. They stink, there's no way else to describe it, but they get a little easier every time. (Hill repeats, for the novice runner, consists of repeatedly running up a stretch of steep hill, hamstrings straining, calves afire, then resting at the top while your burning lungs are doused with cool oxygen, and then walking down muttering obscenities to yourself about having to repeat that experience 8 more times.) This morning wasn't too bad: I went up around the neighborhood, where there are some long hilly climbs. It was amazing though, to see how the seasons change through a runner's workouts. This morning, for example, was the first time I've seen my breath condense on the exhale. Plus, my headband, riddled with sweat after two hills, froze my forehead on the jog home. Who needs fall foliage? I know Autumn has arrived.
The only running hurdle (if you will) has been my recent separation from the team. Granted, I've been keeping up with my workouts, but I have not seen my teammates in quite some time. It was quite a shock, then, that more than a handful of them showed up at my 25th birthday party this past weekend. It was odd to see them in regular clothes - I almost didn't recognize everybody. It was also a shock to see them at night. We usually blink at each other on our 6am Saturday runs. So jarring was the experience, I asked one of my running buddies (who looked so lovely in her party clothes) for her name and tried to re-introduce myself! You know you've been away from the track too long when.... However, I was pleased as punch that they showed up and we had a great time just shooting some pool and chilling out on a Friday night.
As for the mileage, I was worried about the 20 mile run two weeks ago, but it turned out to be one of the best tests I've had during my training. The morning of, I got up at 6am, and (having slept in my running clothes) threw my shoes in the car to go meet my carpool at Lucky's. Well, 15 minutes later, I suspected I had missed the bus. So, I thought to myself: "Sarah, you have to run today, you can't finagle it at any other time. And you're going to have to do this by yourself. And you haven't brought your iPod." I whimpered a little bit after thinking this. Then, I bought some water, drove around the neighborhood and hid it in various shrubbery, and odometered the route I would run. Starting from the local library, I ran through three towns (Los Altos, Mountain View, Sunnyvale), had some water along the way, looped back to the store in Los Altos, got some more water, and then huffed and puffed back to the library for the last five miles.
Let me tell you, that mile 19 mark is a bitch. There's no polite way to describe it. It is truly a mind-cramping physical browbeating. Your whole body and your whole brain are pounding on you to stop stop stop. And I found myself singing aloud in order to keep going, and when that didn't work, I just started yelling at myself: "Just finish it! Don't quit! Argh! My f***** legs!" (This outburst elicited quite a few glares from the Saturday-morning strolling public.) But, my legs were seriously cramped. I mean, there is nothing like a 'mile 19' to make you a believer in the power of day-before hydration. When I got to the car, it was all I could do not to keel over and cry from sheer joy at the wonder of automatic vehicles. After stretching a little bit, I realized I needed an ice bath, and soon, so I headed home to relax.
The only thing that stinks about finishing the 20 mile run without your teammates is that there is no one to cheer you on and commiserate with you afterwards. That, and I missed out on the ritual Hobee's breakfast gorging. Returning home, I was greeted by Mom, who cannot seem to grasp the importance of looking at least a tiny bit impressed when someone says "I just finished a 20 mile run on paved road, on my own with no music in 4:45." Luckily, Dad was running that far too that day, so when he got home, he said "Great!" and understood why I then needed to take a 2 hour nap.
All in all, I'm getting excited for the event, and since we're only running 10 miles this weekend, I can hardly believe my luck. I mean, I only have to run for 2.5 hours on Saturday, which, crazy as it sounds, is as exciting as finding out you don't have to go into work for a week.
If you haven't caught a show yet, check out www.thepear.org for ticket information for Three Sisters, the production I will be in until September's end. I can't promise you that the show will be light, funny, and comedic. In fact, I would highly recommend you have a few drinks before you come to sober up. My parents, who came to see it last Friday, suddenly realized why I've come home this month in such a foul mood. Crying every night on stage while repeatedly berating your job, your love life, and your future will take quite a toll on a young lady such as myself.
The running has been going very well. Hill repeats have become the modus operandi as of late. They stink, there's no way else to describe it, but they get a little easier every time. (Hill repeats, for the novice runner, consists of repeatedly running up a stretch of steep hill, hamstrings straining, calves afire, then resting at the top while your burning lungs are doused with cool oxygen, and then walking down muttering obscenities to yourself about having to repeat that experience 8 more times.) This morning wasn't too bad: I went up around the neighborhood, where there are some long hilly climbs. It was amazing though, to see how the seasons change through a runner's workouts. This morning, for example, was the first time I've seen my breath condense on the exhale. Plus, my headband, riddled with sweat after two hills, froze my forehead on the jog home. Who needs fall foliage? I know Autumn has arrived.
The only running hurdle (if you will) has been my recent separation from the team. Granted, I've been keeping up with my workouts, but I have not seen my teammates in quite some time. It was quite a shock, then, that more than a handful of them showed up at my 25th birthday party this past weekend. It was odd to see them in regular clothes - I almost didn't recognize everybody. It was also a shock to see them at night. We usually blink at each other on our 6am Saturday runs. So jarring was the experience, I asked one of my running buddies (who looked so lovely in her party clothes) for her name and tried to re-introduce myself! You know you've been away from the track too long when.... However, I was pleased as punch that they showed up and we had a great time just shooting some pool and chilling out on a Friday night.
As for the mileage, I was worried about the 20 mile run two weeks ago, but it turned out to be one of the best tests I've had during my training. The morning of, I got up at 6am, and (having slept in my running clothes) threw my shoes in the car to go meet my carpool at Lucky's. Well, 15 minutes later, I suspected I had missed the bus. So, I thought to myself: "Sarah, you have to run today, you can't finagle it at any other time. And you're going to have to do this by yourself. And you haven't brought your iPod." I whimpered a little bit after thinking this. Then, I bought some water, drove around the neighborhood and hid it in various shrubbery, and odometered the route I would run. Starting from the local library, I ran through three towns (Los Altos, Mountain View, Sunnyvale), had some water along the way, looped back to the store in Los Altos, got some more water, and then huffed and puffed back to the library for the last five miles.
Let me tell you, that mile 19 mark is a bitch. There's no polite way to describe it. It is truly a mind-cramping physical browbeating. Your whole body and your whole brain are pounding on you to stop stop stop. And I found myself singing aloud in order to keep going, and when that didn't work, I just started yelling at myself: "Just finish it! Don't quit! Argh! My f***** legs!" (This outburst elicited quite a few glares from the Saturday-morning strolling public.) But, my legs were seriously cramped. I mean, there is nothing like a 'mile 19' to make you a believer in the power of day-before hydration. When I got to the car, it was all I could do not to keel over and cry from sheer joy at the wonder of automatic vehicles. After stretching a little bit, I realized I needed an ice bath, and soon, so I headed home to relax.
The only thing that stinks about finishing the 20 mile run without your teammates is that there is no one to cheer you on and commiserate with you afterwards. That, and I missed out on the ritual Hobee's breakfast gorging. Returning home, I was greeted by Mom, who cannot seem to grasp the importance of looking at least a tiny bit impressed when someone says "I just finished a 20 mile run on paved road, on my own with no music in 4:45." Luckily, Dad was running that far too that day, so when he got home, he said "Great!" and understood why I then needed to take a 2 hour nap.
All in all, I'm getting excited for the event, and since we're only running 10 miles this weekend, I can hardly believe my luck. I mean, I only have to run for 2.5 hours on Saturday, which, crazy as it sounds, is as exciting as finding out you don't have to go into work for a week.
Friday, September 7, 2007
Energy, energy, all around...
That's the start of a very popular pre-show theatre warm-up. It goes like this:
"Energy, energy, all around...it can bring you up...it can bring you down!"
The cast will warm up and then do this concentration exercise together, usually to enhance connectivity onstage. It builds from a whisper to a scream, but on the last repetition, you don't say "it can bring you down"...you replace that bit with a line from the show. Clever, eh?
This rhyme has been ticking away in my head recently, probably because we open Three Sisters this evening and also because I have a 20 mile run tomorrow that, for some reason, has made me very unnaturally nervous.
Granted, it could be pre-show jitters as well. I've had more than a few thoughts about tripping on my runs this week, having to then play a character with a mysterious limp. Feasibly, it could be that the nervous energy from this show is getting transferred to my running brain.
(For the unenlightened, a "running brain" is a special organ that encases your existing everyday brain during a long run, dousing it in a jelly-like liquid that emits small neuro-waves of unfiltered bliss, resulting in a feeling of capriciousness. Doctors are still mystified by this phenomenon; studies suggests a link between the running brain and month-long vacations.)
At times like this, I have to make a decision about either fighting off the nervousness and applying logic, or trusting my instincts and giving into the nagging feeling that something could go terribly wrong.
In the past, I would have trusted my instincts. And that sounds so completely off-kilter, I know. But, since I've started running long distances, I've learned to stop giving in to my instincts. It sounds weird, but when you're at mile 16, and your legs are getting tight and you're tired and you just want to stop and the left side of your brain is fighting with the goopy running brain serum, screaming at you to just stop running because you're not going to get there any faster, you're running out of water, you didn't have enough to eat for breakfast, and would you please just walk for God's sake...that's the moment when you have to turn off your instincts and just keep going. (I find that music is especially helpful in these moments. Humming usually does the trick. When it escalates to a full-blown rendition of Oklahoma!, you can bet I've checked out completely.) There is something to be said for stopping if you're feeling injured or faint, but that left brain negativity has a tricky way of making you think you're about to die, when really you're just melodramatic like your mom always told you.
Now, when all else fails, I can talk myself out of the nervousness by creating a Worst Things That Could Happen list. For example:
1. I'll go running on Saturday and fall and break both legs.
2. I'll go running on Saturday and get hit by a car.
3. I'll go running on Saturday and be dehydrated and tired, which will make me susceptible to the left brain guerrilla warfare.
Answers:
1. I'll just have to take it a little slower tomorrow and not get caught up in the speed game. If I break my legs, I'll just sit onstage for the whole show and never move, making a quite literal expression of the phrase "We'll never get to Moscow!"
2.Stay on the trail and look both ways before crossing the street. Also, wear handkerchief to keep sweat from blinding me.
3.Drink water today until I've peed my brains out, and then I won't have any brain left to fight me tomorrow.
3b. La la lalalalaaaaa laaaaaaaaaaaa laaa la la...
"Energy, energy, all around...it can bring you up...it can bring you down!"
The cast will warm up and then do this concentration exercise together, usually to enhance connectivity onstage. It builds from a whisper to a scream, but on the last repetition, you don't say "it can bring you down"...you replace that bit with a line from the show. Clever, eh?
This rhyme has been ticking away in my head recently, probably because we open Three Sisters this evening and also because I have a 20 mile run tomorrow that, for some reason, has made me very unnaturally nervous.
Granted, it could be pre-show jitters as well. I've had more than a few thoughts about tripping on my runs this week, having to then play a character with a mysterious limp. Feasibly, it could be that the nervous energy from this show is getting transferred to my running brain.
(For the unenlightened, a "running brain" is a special organ that encases your existing everyday brain during a long run, dousing it in a jelly-like liquid that emits small neuro-waves of unfiltered bliss, resulting in a feeling of capriciousness. Doctors are still mystified by this phenomenon; studies suggests a link between the running brain and month-long vacations.)
At times like this, I have to make a decision about either fighting off the nervousness and applying logic, or trusting my instincts and giving into the nagging feeling that something could go terribly wrong.
In the past, I would have trusted my instincts. And that sounds so completely off-kilter, I know. But, since I've started running long distances, I've learned to stop giving in to my instincts. It sounds weird, but when you're at mile 16, and your legs are getting tight and you're tired and you just want to stop and the left side of your brain is fighting with the goopy running brain serum, screaming at you to just stop running because you're not going to get there any faster, you're running out of water, you didn't have enough to eat for breakfast, and would you please just walk for God's sake...that's the moment when you have to turn off your instincts and just keep going. (I find that music is especially helpful in these moments. Humming usually does the trick. When it escalates to a full-blown rendition of Oklahoma!, you can bet I've checked out completely.) There is something to be said for stopping if you're feeling injured or faint, but that left brain negativity has a tricky way of making you think you're about to die, when really you're just melodramatic like your mom always told you.
Now, when all else fails, I can talk myself out of the nervousness by creating a Worst Things That Could Happen list. For example:
1. I'll go running on Saturday and fall and break both legs.
2. I'll go running on Saturday and get hit by a car.
3. I'll go running on Saturday and be dehydrated and tired, which will make me susceptible to the left brain guerrilla warfare.
Answers:
1. I'll just have to take it a little slower tomorrow and not get caught up in the speed game. If I break my legs, I'll just sit onstage for the whole show and never move, making a quite literal expression of the phrase "We'll never get to Moscow!"
2.Stay on the trail and look both ways before crossing the street. Also, wear handkerchief to keep sweat from blinding me.
3.Drink water today until I've peed my brains out, and then I won't have any brain left to fight me tomorrow.
3b. La la lalalalaaaaa laaaaaaaaaaaa laaa la la...
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