Sometimes Enough is Enough

I always say I love running. I say it with the same enthusiasm exhibited from Cassie's son when he pointed out the lawnmower to me last time we were there. I find myself consciously making an effort not to talk about it to people I just met, and I view "Hi, my name is Maggie, do you run races?" as a perfectly appropriate greeting.

But today I don't like running. For the past week I haven't quite enjoyed running. I'm proud of my accomplishments, but don't look forward to runs quite like I have. Maybe my year-long running binge has caught up with me. Maybe it's the 20-mile week I had the other week. Maybe it's the weather. But for this week, I'm not enjoying running.

Don't misjudge me...I'm not throwing in the towel. I'm not looking to hang up the running shoes, or find a new hobby (although I have found myself completely engrossed in Project Runway, therefore I am convinced, much to Ted's dismay, that I should completely quit the 9-to-5 lifestyle and become a fashion designer). I still plan on running and I still plan on training for Nashville.

But for this week, I'm going to whine, I'll mope around, then I'll tie up the laces and push myself through the obligatory mile. And, I'm fairly certain, before I know it, I'll be looking forward to the next long(ish) run and will be back to the annoying, giddy self most people know me as being.

But for now, my name is Maggie and I'm a fashion designer.

Summer time...and the livin's easy...

Okay, so summer is in full swing in eastern PA, and while the living may be easy, the running is not following suit. The past week has been sticky, sultry, thick, and evening has provided very little relief. Even the backyard pool has turned into an oversized bathtub full of lukewarm water that is hardly refreshing.

My morning runs have turns from the blessed cool jaunts to continuations of the evening before...with everyone I pass giving me the same glazed-over look I probably have. It's that part of the summer I dream about the cool autumn evenings, and longer runs in 40 degree weather.

This is the kind of weather where I find myself not motivated to a single thing (including blogging, which can be proven my by three-week gap...yeah, sorry about that). Ted and I come home from work, throw something quick together for dinner, and plop down in front of the TV (which is new, along with the HD box and DVR, meaning no more commercials for Mr. Remote). Then we pull ourselves upstairs, and pray for the air-conditioner to kick in quickly. This is a small price we pay for a charming 100+-year-old borough home, but it's a price nonetheless. The morning comes, I get up and run, we go to work, and the routine starts all over.

It doesn't quite look like the heat will break any time soon...while the weather promises relief soon, the temperatures are still in the high 80s, and unless it cools down at night, the pattern of slow, staggered running will continue.

Every summer I seem to repeat this whine. Every summer we go through the exact same process at some point, and you'd think I'd be used to it, or learn how to accommodate myself. Oh I do learn...I figure out the best way for me to run effectively in this weather, then it's September and fall starts (and I welcome it) and then winter, and spring, and I forget what I taught myself the year before and another vicious cycle continues...me whining and moaning about heat and humidity, finally bucking up and figuring out what to do when autumn rolls around.

But I'm still out there, which is more than I can say for other summers. I'm still on my streak...six and a half months and counting.

So to all of you running in this weather--be careful. Be smart. To those of you who enjoy it--more power (and pass me your secrets).

So the sickness continues...

A month ago this time, the question "Would you do another marathon?" left me slightly nauseous, and skirting around the issue.

So tell me why I found myself trying to figure out a way to get into the NYC marathon?

I never thought I would avoid marathons forever...I just figured the urge would come on a bit more slowly than it did...I had thought I would see it coming down the road, and not come around a turn and have it hit me head-on.

For a few days I avoided bringing the topic up with Ted...like a drug addiction, I thought if I ignored it, it would go away, and I'd never have to fess my madness to anyone. But it came out, and instead of disgust, Ted responded with a sheepish "I've been thinking about it, too."

We determined NYC wouldn't be possible...if I'm going to complete the year with my daily running, I thought it would be smart to put off marathon training until next year. In addition to that, the NYC marathon lottery was over and the charity organizations I could sign up with intimidate me (I'm terrified of not raising the money, and an $80 marathon registration fee turns into over $2000).

So the goal is Nashville in April 2009. If that falls through, I'll see what is involved in getting in the lottery for NYC next year, but that's the plan.

It's a disease. What am I thinking? Molli has told me the second marathon is the hardest...the first one you are just thrilled to finish. The second you begin to try to beat times and get cocky..."I did this before. No sweat." I figure I'll be kicking myself come Mile 20, but, like many other events in my life requiring the common sense I lack, I plow forward regardless.

On other notes, Happy 4th of July everyone!