A New Reason Not to Run

Things I learned on my first run:
1) always have water with you
2) listen to your body
3) know where the bathrooms are

So my first practice with the team didn't go so well.

The practice was on Wednesday night. Monday of that week, I got sick. Tuesday I stayed home from work with a low-grade fever. By Wednesday my fever was gone, I went back to work and felt fine, though a bit dehydrated. I drank tons of water and ate well in preparation for the run.

The team met at a great store on the Upper East Side called Urban Athletics. As we all gathered -- there must have been about 50 of us -- the small store got hotter and hotter. And I started sweating. And got very thirsty.

I had brought water with me, but in my heightened state of anticipation, I forgot about it. It seems really strange to me, in retrospect, that you can be as thirsty as I was and not remember the great big bottle of water in your bag. Hot, sweaty and thirsty, water within my reach, but not a drop to drink.

The run was three miles for us beginners. I was near the back of the pack from the very beginning but there was no surprise there. It wasn't long, though, before I felt like I might be heading for trouble. I needed water.

Surely there would be water fountains.

Where are the water fountains in Central Park? Nowhere near the loop where we were running. Every now and then I would see one off the path a ways, but as much as I wanted a drink, I didn't want to get too far behind (not to mention add the distance to and from the water fountain to this seemingly endless run). I got more and more dehydrated, but I didn't want to stop. If I could just finish the run, get through the night, not humiliate myself by having to drop out.

Speaking of humiliation...

I made it to the turn-around point (1.5 miles), still running, but barely. I managed to hook up with another slow runner, and we chatted a bit. I thought maybe I could make it through the rest of the run if I ran with her.

Suddenly, my stomach felt funny. And everything that was in it seemed to move -- south.

"I think I'm going to walk for a while," I said, trying not to sound alarmed. I started walking, only to find that I was still keeping pace with the runner! We had been running that slowly!

I slowed my pace to let the runner get ahead of me. I didn't want to make her feel bad, but I also wanted to be by myself in case...

I hoped "in case" wouldn't happen, but every three minutes or so I was sure it would. I was afraid I was going to have to disappear into the bushes and wasn't sure if I'd be able to come back out. It was clear that this night could easily turn into the most humiliating of my life.

I'm sure the suspense is killing you, so I'll let you off the hook. I made it back without incident. But it was the longest mile I have ever walked.

Five Things I'd Never Do

I think if you'd asked me a year ago to name five things I'd never do, I would have probably put "run a marathon" at the top of the list.

But, as they say, that was then…

This is now.

Last week I started training for a marathon. (No, not the New York Marathon, which is everyone's first question – as if any other marathon isn't still 26.2 miles!) I used to say you'd have to be crazy to run a marathon because of how hard it is on your body. I can think of five reasons right now NOT to run this marathon:

1) toenails will break and fall off
2) joints – important ones like hips and knees – may never recover
3) one word – chafing
4) dehydration (I've seen her dehydrate sir. It's pretty gross.)
5) sweat (Anyone who knows me knows that I sweat more than most people. For anyone who doesn't know me, I was the only person in my ballet class who had to keep a towel with me at the bar or I'd slip off. That's how much I sweat.)

There. That was easy. Five good reasons not to do it.

So why am I doing it? That's a hard question to answer.

At first it was a whim. And then I was intrigued. And then I was inspired.


The Whim
I picked up a brochure in a juice shop for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's Team In Training, New York City Chapter. It gave me just enough information to get interested – great way to meet people and to get into shape, both of which I desperately needed to do. A year at a desk job had done a lot of damage to my social life – not to mention my ass.

The brochure left out some important information, like the fact that I would have to raise $3,600. But it did mention that it was for a good cause, and that was appealing to me -- though I can't pretend that was the reason I signed up. In fact, with what little information I could glean from the brochure, I thought maybe I could go through the training and then somehow weasel out of the actual race. Because I still believed that you have to be CRAZY to run a marathon.

Intrigue
I went to an informational meeting. I'm a bit on the shy side, so just showing up for the meeting was a challenge. It's usually the kind of thing I would only do if a friend was coming along. But I showed up. And I heard all about the program – the fundraising ($3,600! Yikes!) and where the money goes.

Inspiration
Where the money goes – that's what inspired me. Hearing stories from cancer survivors and seeing how recent research breakthroughs have helped so many people already – how they are getting closer and closer to a cure – that was truly inspiring.



So I showed up (which we all know is half the battle) a second time and signed up for the marathon. I will be running P.F. Chang's Rock 'n' Roll Arizona Marathon on January 15, 2006. And if you have to run a marathon, there are worse places to do it than Phoenix in January. Phoenix, after all, is not only beautiful – more importantly – it's FLAT. And for a first time marathoner, flat is very important.


Flat, like my abs will be in a few months.