Half Way there

Today, my charity fundraising team and I ran the last half of the Boston Marathon. We popped on the route right at the beautiful (and scarily male-free) Wellesley College campus, stuck to it right ‘til the end, and even went another mile and a half or so (to find the water/warmth/coordinator/ride back to our vehicles). Wouldn’t you just expect me to say it was swell? Well, it was. It was fine; it was great; it wasn’t bad at all. Thinking of running 15 miles (let’s face it: rounding up from 14.8 makes it sound even better) makes me cringe a little, and makes me think about how many times I will probably have to make a number two but not be able to find a bathroom, but it went smoothly and passed quickly and it was actually quite nice to know what to expect come race day. It was cold, about 20-25 degrees or so, but it was clear and sunny and Boston was quiet and it was generally just grand. And we only stopped for one pee break and I only had to poo a little bit.

My college field hockey and lacrosse buddy, BK, is, totally coincidentally, on the same charity team as I am. Having a friend in the same boat makes the training (not to mention the fundraiser we are running together tomorrow) SO much better. I’m not super-social, as I may have said already, so the thought of having to meet new people and talk to them totally skeeves me out. My five-year college graduation reunion is coming up and I basically throw up in my mouth every time I think about how scary it is going to be; I keep in touch with approximately ten people from college: one didn’t become my friend until we ended up working together a year after graduating, and the other nine were on the ski team with me and are not in the same class. Basically, I’m on my own. That side-note was to explain why it makes sense that I am super-psyched to have a friend to do these training activities with.

Oh man, I'm even more happy to have BK there because there is an extremely annoying girl on our training ventures. She isn’t on the same team as I am, but our teams overlap in joint adventures of running insane distances only a crazy anorexic would think of and doing other workouts only suited for college athletes and suburban-stay-at-home-moms who think they have to stay “in-shape” to keep the bacon coming home. She is younger than I am, not by much, but enough for me to think—know—I am so much better and so much smarter and am so much more mature than she. She enjoys talking about her college days, in Boston, when she would watch, in a drunken stupor, the marathon runners and raucously enjoy her day (Patriots' Day--Massachusetts only) off school, watching her friends vomit on the race course and dump their beers on the racers. Sweet. She means well, she is raising money for charity after all, but holy moly can she talk your ear off about the stupidest stuff you have ever heard. Probably she’s just nervous about being around strangers; I hear her on that one, but man am I glad my mouth shuts instead of opens when I freak out about my surroundings. Luckily, I had my iPod (hot pink, obviously) and my friend for the run today.

My legs are definitely tired, but I’m not sore or injured, after the long run this morning. Interestingly enough, we ran at a much faster pace than I am used to. The ten-minute mile, my natural go-to no matter what, was right out the window. I knew we were running fast, but I wasn’t out of breath and I could still hold a conversation so I didn’t say anything. Plus, it was nice to finish and change into dry, warm clothes and sit in a heated car drinking purple Gatorade served to me from a squat orange tub in the back of the “team’s” Yukon sooner. I didn’t want to look like a wimp but a couple times I definitely wondered if this was a normal speed for my friend. I’m sure it was, actually. She’s a steady notch faster than me in the jogging/long run department. Don’t worry though: I killed all my college teammates in the area of sprinting, which field sports are anyway, so I don’t feel inferior. I hope I remember to stretch later.