the first race i ran i had my cell phone in my hand, the battery blasting low from hours of streaming runkeeper and spotify. the first race i ran was a half marathon i couldn’t have been less trained for. i had spent the night in the guest room of strangers, a friend of a friend who made me a vegetarian burrito the night before, and i worried about the calories in white rice and smoked two cigarettes before bed. my brain was stronger than my body, or my will was better trained than my quads- because totally unfit, i crossed the finish line, and limped for about three days.
yesterday i ran 15 miles with the team. a boring route through south brooklyn. it was sunny, and despite being thirsty and not completely in the mood, the company was great and the miles ticked by.
there is routine where there was chaos and there is purpose where hours were listless.
i have run over 1,200 miles in the past twelve months. my friend ron runs 85 miles per week. my teammate runs a 3:10 marathon. my date loves running hills.
i am not there yet. there are 10 goals after each goal. no one at the bar cares what my resting heart rate is.
one day i will be proud of myself and it’s going to be so great. i will run a 3:45, and then a 3:30. i will run an ultra and maybe get trained to be an achilles guide for blind runners.
i’ll finally solve this nutrition thing and once and for all decide if beets are in fact a runners friend or foe.
i’ll remember to take salt tabs.
i’ll use more than one setting on my garmin.
so much to do
nice abs, fatso.