One Big Congrats to the World's Newest Driver

One of my favorite commercials is for a credit card offering immediate rewards for points earned. The commercial shows a girl running, while one of the few Spice Girl's hit songs "Wannabe" blares out of an accompanying car window. The car follows the girl, down roads, through a field, and down a flight of stairs. The whole point is why wait for your rewards points to get what you want (in this case, obviosuly an MP3 player).

I think this is a great idea, but Ted has no interest in driving maybe 5 mph while I run and listen to music, despite my arguments and pleas and promises to leave the Spice Girls out of the mix.

Now, maybe that Dave has his license, I can start working him on the idea...

The Comfort of Knowing

This weekend was a stepping stone for Ted. Saturday morning's 9-mile run was somewhat hilly, one of those hilly runs where it would be easier to run Broad Street's 10-mile course as opposed to this 9-mile course. We ran it, it didn't kill him, and I think it finally sunk in that he can do the Broad Street Run and enjoy it. So now he's a bit more relaxed about the race and is a bit more confident.

So this morning, I came in and registered my little running trio for the race. I'm pretty proud--I feel like the coach whose kids are ready to go off and do what they learned!

The Definition of "Presumptuous"

Did anyone else hear the celebration going on Sunday morning in PA? Ted broke the 6-mile barrier. Dave, Ted, and I got up Sunday morning for a pre-church run. The final distance? 7.82. I was pretty proud of them--I'm not sure when Dave's last distance run was, but one may have thought he did this everyday. Ted did good, too, for it being a run almost two miles farther than his farthest so far. (go ahead--say that three times fast)

I came in to work this morning and opened my email. There was an announcement for the Philly Marathon. Along with a 25% discount code if I were to register before the official registration opens on April 1st.

"Special offer for 2006 participants, " it said.

*gulp* I said.

But I didn't delete it. It's there and I'm seriously considering it. I have mentioned before the plans my little running trio has of conquering the Philly Marathon in November. We talk about it, and Ted has gone so far as to tell his co-workers of his plans (which is pretty much all but a confirmation for him). I think I would really like to do it. I know I would, I'd love to. I think it would be a lot of fun, and what an experience. And I know I could, which is a pretty cool feeling.

However, it really is dependent on Ted and Dave's participation. As long as Dave does it, Ted will. As long as Ted is training, it will be easier for me to get out and train.

But is it a bit too forward for me to register now? It's practically eight months away, to the day. Or would that seal it and make it all the more real instead of a "someday" type of conversation?

I wonder if I can request a bib number...I don't want to be the dork with bib number "20" or something out of 15,000....

Regardless, I thought I wouldn't have to battle this decision until October. Now I have two weeks.

It's not what it looks like, Honest!

Have you ever had one of those runs where you look at the total distance, and you look at the time, and you want to scream because the way you feel when you finish versus how you actually did on paper say two totally different things? Then you calm down and convince yourself you need a new time watch because the one you have is obviously broken.

That's what last night was like.

While out driving with Dave this past weekend, Ted thought he had discovered a new 8-mile running route. Turns out it isn't quite 8 miles, but more like 5.7 (I'm not quite sure how he got the 8-mile in the first place...he broke this news that he thought he had measured wrong before we left the house last night). With Ted's confession, we decided to run that new route last night anyway, with the possibility of tacking on an extra three miles at the end to increase the mileage and bring the total up to 8-9.

It was a funny weather night for running. Because it was so warm yesterday, our heat never came on in the house, so it was colder inside than out. This phenomenon offset my body thermometer, and Ted had to talk me into leaving the long-sleeve shirt at home. It was warm on our run, and it felt sticky and soupy. Not as bad as I know it can get (and will get), but sticky and soupy just the same, and in the middle of March, just a little stickiness and soupiness can make a lot of difference.

The topography map I've included is a pretty good summary of the run and how it went. We started out with the intention of chalking up 8 that night (keep in mind Ted has yet to break the 6-mile barrier...there will be celebration in Southeast Pennsylvania when that happens). So the pace was a light jog to start out. Until about mile one, where we begin the downhill descent, and naturally picked the pace up.

(EDITOR'S NOTE: Dave is about the only one of my readers who knows this route, has run is, and can appreciate the hill at the end of the first mile...by the train tracks, D. He knows this hill, as it has caught up with him a few times, and it is one I like to call a "wine hill" because you don't realize what it is until it is too late. Now Dave, look at how that hill is recognized on the topography map, and look at how the rest of the hills are recognized on the topography map. I'll let the pity party begin this weekend).

So, as I was saying, we were moving pretty good until mile 3. The scenery was nice, and the road winded around behind an old quarry, farmland, and a few houses. It was like another world set back away from our little borough. Peaceful, quiet, and very picturesque. Mile 3.5 on was brutal, and showed no mercy, and met us coming out of this nice run like a brick wall. Ted made an executive decision to not add the little bit on at the end and just go home. At that point I was glad he did...although, let the records show I would have down the additional 3, since that route is fairly flat.

This morning Ted's hurting. It hurts to stand, Mags. He told me this as I was getting ready to head out the door in the morning. Hurry up so I can go back to bed a little. I know he'll be fine and ready for a longer (and flatter) run this weekend. His recovery time has improved drastically, and I would be surprised if he was still sore this afternoon.

I feel good about how I felt after the run. The saddest hurdle to get over is that the distance is hardly anything to brag about, and our time is hardly anything to brag about, but the way we felt made all the difference in the world to what sort of work out it had to be. And I guess I'll give my watch another chance.

Time for some new gear

I read somewhere runners have a superstitious streak, and I'm afraid that I am one of them. I love new running clothes, and I will buy new running clothes without hesitation. The problem is throwing away the old stuff. And apparently, clothes do have a life, and even the best technical items will eventually lose some of their "tech" and decrease in how they work.

The weekend's long run was a 8-miler. Dave's driving test is Wednesday, and Ted promised to help him perfect the parking portion of the exam. The rest of the day's schedule was slightly tight, so the best possible itinerary meant I ran, while Ted parked.

I packed up my MP3 Friends and decided to do an out-and-back course, with some considerable hills, both steep and quick as well as long and gradual. Not even halfway through, the batteries died in my player, and the back-ups I carried were dead, as well (Note to Self: Remember to throw out dead batteries instead of letting them stay in your shoe pouch). I was forced to run the rest of the course with nothing but nature to entertain me.

The 8-miler turned out to be a 9.2, which I was happy about, until I got home and plopped on the floor.

Apparently, my sports bra and shirt do not love me as much as I love them. I am in pain...chafed, red, raw, and scabbed over. Ted made me promise to pick up new items today, and promise to also throw out the old (imagine that conversation: MAN: Honey, go buy new clothes. WOMAN: But I love my clothes right now, I've had them so long! MAN: Go buy new clothes). But my current running clothes have been through so much with me...I feel like I'm betraying them. How can I just toss them, like they're meaningless pieces of fabric?

But I will, only because a bust line of scars is not really what I want to think of when I think back on runs. I prefer medals as mementos, not scabs. So my shopping list today is a few new items of running apparel, power gels (now that the runs for Broad Street training are over 6 miles), and some body glide, to help un-do some of the painful damage that has already been done.

On the inside looking out

Part of working within or for the publishing industry means majority of the conferences and events occur in New York, the hub for the publishing industry. So every few months, I find myself in New York for business.

I love New York, I really do. I love leaving New York, too, for that matter, but I love the lights and the people and the sounds...and try my darnedest to walk around looking like I'm not a tourist, which in itself probably clues everyone in.

This morning I had my running clothes out, and my running directions for my loop right beside them. When I got up, Al Roker informed me the temperature in NYC at that very moment was 13, with 50 mph winds. Had this been a city I'd never been in before, I'd probably have bit the bullet and laced up anyway. Because I've run in NYC before, and will again, the temptation wasn't as great, and instead, I decided to bit the other bullet and lace up and head to the fitness center.

ShoreTurtle, my co-workers, my friends--everyone who trains, even a little, on a treadmill--you have my complete and utmost respect. I lasted 9 minutes before my boredom exceeded my desire to run, so I then shifted focus and did 10 minutes on the bike. Then I threw in the towel (literally as well as figuratively) and headed back to the room in defeat.

Believe it or not, running during high school aside, my serious training started on treadmills. I decided in January 2002 I wanted to do a 5K, and since I had run in high school, it didn't seem terribly impossible. For the first three months, I was running on a treadmill, cranking out 4-5 miles at a time. All it took to lose that focus was one road run, and I have never been able to manage on a treadmill since.

So I immediately called Ted on my return to the room and told him we're running tonight. Outside.