Chin up, head down

It's been some time since I've had the energy or interest in putting anything new up here, mostly because lately I feel like I'm in a bit of a rut. My weekends are no longer occupied with long, challenging runs, and I'm not motivated by having a big race to work towards. The only goal I have right now is one that requires a different kind of stamina: Zdenek and I are on the hunt for a new apartment.

As any New Yorker knows, finding a decent, habitable space at a reasonable price in this city is not a trivial task. Zdenek and I seem to have spent every weekend for the past three months (and several nights each week) apartment-hunting on the UWS. If only we could pony up $8K in monthly rent, we'd have signed a new lease a long time ago. But we're a long way from that rent band and, indeed, even further from the "fantastic, gorgeous, spacious" apartment on Central Park West that one broker called us about yesterday. (The price tag: $15,000 per month.)

As nice as it will be to finally move out of our adequate but too-small space and into something slightly more "grown-up," I'm starting to tire of the constant internet searching, emailing to non-responsive brokers, and visiting places that look nothing like the photos (one place we saw last weekend was literally coming apart at the seams and, I think, hadn't been lived in since 1955). I just don't have the energy for this anymore. In fact, I don't seem to have the energy for much at all these days. My running has been sluggish and hard, and my biking is nowhere near the level it was at last year. Zdenek, too, is a bit frustrated by my exhaustion, and spends most of our running or biking time looking back over his shoulder, wondering if or when I'm going to catch up (this morning he just opted to bike without me).

But I need to remember that it's still early days and my biking legs might yet return. I have to relish the freedom from training plans and the option to run only four or five miles, whenever the mood strikes me. I must savor the opportunities to be outdoors and in the late springtime warmth before the oppressive summer humidity moves in to stay. And I need to enjoy the little rewards running gives me along the way: last week I found $1 on my run back from the Park, and yesterday morning I picked up a $20 bill. It may not help the apartment hunt, but it's good motivation to keep my head down and stay moving.

The Great Escape

Now that we are free from weekend runs that impact half of our Saturday and necessitate a full Sunday recovery, Zdenek and I are trying to take advantage of our new found freedom by fitting in bike rides and weight training sessions whenever we feel like it. I thought it would be a good idea for us to also get out of the city a bit more and explore some of the lovely Northeastern surroundings that lie within an hour or two by train or automobile, and so we decided to head to Bear Mountain on Sunday with my good friend, Caitlin.

I had a whole blog entry written about this 11 mile (asinine) adventure, but on second thought, I've decided not to post it. Caitlin and Zdenek will understand why. The rest of you will have to be content with some photos.

View of the Hudson

New York City skyline from 50+ miles away

On the Major Welch Trail

Hiking up 12,000 year-old ice-age boulders
(or, as Caitlin sarcastically declared, the grandeur of the Northeast)

No bears, only hikers

Me: tired and cold

They carried the backpacks; I carried the camera

View from the Bear Mountain suspension bridge, overlooking Iona Island

Pre-race Providence

I don't have any photo proof of the run itself, but I promise, we were there.

Monica, me, & Cheryl
feeling good the day before!

A happy pre-race Zdenek

A small hill workout the day before

When both of us are racing, there's no one to take the pre-race photo!

Back in the saddle

Although this marathon recovery has been pretty quick and painless (I was running a day later and have only an annoying blister to contend with), it has been most rewarding for one important reason. For the last couple of months, I’ve watched wistfully from the side of the roads as the Central Park cyclists spun past me, enjoying the early spring weather. Not wanting to risk injury in the few weeks before the race, I’ve kept my cross-training to the aquatic variety and left my little red Giant parked.

But with nothing left to fear, I was thrilled to get back on my bike twice so far this week (in fact, the first morning I was so excited that I actually dreamed about riding my bike and woke up well before 5:30 am, waiting for the alarm to go off). There is some part of me that knows, deep down, that if running were not so darn convenient and flexible, I might be training for centuries rather than marathons.

It feels good to be back in the saddle. (My head, at least, knows this; my butt remains to be convinced.)

No doubts

One of the things I most enjoy during marathons is the crowd support. A few funny antics or encouraging signs along the way can mean all the difference, especially after mile 20. Nothing quite rivals New York City for fans, but many of the marathons I’ve run have had their own memorable moments courtesy of the crowd. At the Cincinnati Flying Pig marathon in 2006, the entire course from mile 18 onwards was filled with silly quotes and banners to distract the runners from the burning pain in their legs. During the Virginia Beach Shamrock marathon a year later, I ran through army barracks, past men in uniform shouting, “Left, right, left, right…” And yesterday at the Providence marathon, I saw a few great signs that made me smile: One poster (held by a man ringing a cowbell and wearing a short, midriff-exposing sweater and what I hope was a wig) read, “Doubters can suck it.” Another said, “26.2 miles + 80 degrees + 2 kids = 1 hot mamma.”

I was also one hot mamma yesterday (minus the two kids). The weather in Providence was far from ideal for running. It was 90% humidity and hot by 6 am, and I knew I would need to scale back my expectations for setting anything even approaching a PR. About 500 m in, I waved to Zdenek to go ahead, and then I plugged into my iPod and spent the next 25.5 miles just trying to enjoy myself. I didn’t run hard. I walked to thank volunteers along the way. I removed my headphones on several occasions to encourage a few fellow runners who looked like they were struggling toward the end. At mile 23, I stopped, pulled out my iPod, found Lady Gaga, and put my iPod back in pocket. And then I grooved.

I ran the last few miles easy, with a smile on my face, taking time to wave back and say “thanks” to every spectator who shouted a word of encouragement. It almost felt like a victory lap of sorts. It was my eighth marathon -- what was I trying to prove? Even if I had run a Boston Qualifier, what would have been the point? I knew the conditions would never allow me to run a PR, so why hurt myself over 10 or 15 minutes? Yesterday’s race seemed like a celebration of the fact that I am a runner, and that I can treat a marathon just like another long run.

As for Zdenek, he ran over 20 minutes faster than me and finished in a phenomenal time considering the conditions and the fact that he’s really been running at my pace for 90% of our training over the last 17 weeks. I think he enjoyed himself, though I’m not sure. I found him at the finish line (literally one step behind the timing mat), teary-eyed, saying that he was so worried about me that he thought something must have happened (I’m flattered that my running anything over 3:40 is now cause for concern, but I think he was mostly delirious). He hasn’t yet said that he found it “fun,” and he’s made no mention of wanting to try another one. He did say, however, that it was the hardest thing he’s ever done in his entire life. There's some chance that Zdenek will go back to being my biggest supporter and waving to me from the sidelines, but I’m not so sure. I believe he’s got a 3:15 in him yet.

Doubters can suck it.