For weeks now, every night I have been pushing the little blue "Write Blog Post" bubble in my iCal over onto the next tomorrow. Given that I only have four more tomorrows until I actually run the race, it seemed about time to write something already.
A lot has happened - most notably, I ran the full 21K distance up at my cottage (please let those hills somewhat approximate what the actual run is like...), then jumped directly into the lake, pants and all. I can only hope my actual run is so victorious. Because there have sure been a surplus of not-so-victorious moments along the way.
Some lessons that I have learned this time around:
- I am terrible at writing consistent blog posts. This is a lesson any fool who has attempted to read this site regularly has also learned. Actual running trumps blog. Sleep trumps everything. Those are the rules.
- More than energy or fitness, training requires a commitment of time. When I signed up, I needed something to fill some time, to give it a goal. Now I can't wait to get all those evenings back, to run if I want, or do whatever the heck else I feel like doing. Including sitting on the couch and eating cookies for dinner until I feel sick.
- I really like alone time. I kind of failed at my goal to make friends through TNT. And the honest reason is not because anybody wasn't willing - every participant was more than friendly. The real reason is; I didn't try very hard. I like running alone. I have my best runs when I'm alone. I'm ok with that.
- People are really, unbelievably generous. I don't know if I'll ever be able to raise $4,000 for anything ever again. I fear it may be one of those situations where I've played my charity card, and you really can't overdo it with that card. But I will never cease to be amazed by the generosity of the most unexpected people. Thank you.
- There are three kinds of runs:
Number one, the Just F-ing Kill Me, is the most disheartening of the runs. 3K feels like 30K, mild cramps feel like bullet wounds, half marathons feel impossible. No you can't (the motto Obama wisely decided against). End of story.
Number two is the Comme Ci Comme Ça - it says, "hey, I'm French so I'm somewhat apathetic, but maybe this is doable." Perhaps, with a lot of pain in the process, I could finish this whole crazy thing. Maybe. If I can puff through the knee pain.
Number three is the Run of Gods. This is the kind of situation where i wish I could sell those few moments of adrenaline and endorphins produced. This is invincibility, world domination, superhuman endurance. There is nothing I can't do - that vertical climb is cake.
There are enough number ones and twos to make the threes a rarity - and thus all the more incredible. Without the benefit of contrast, we'd never know euphoria, right?
- There's no such thing as a "quick run". Even 3K involves a prep regimen to get things started on the right hamstring. Hydrating at work, eating, waiting for the food to settle, the gross sinus rinse process, clothing, water bottle filling, headphone wire placement. Do they all sound superficial, yes. But just today I thought I could skip a couple of steps and was felled by side cramps on a measly 3K run. Even the shortest shortcuts are no good.
- San Francisco is a hilly place. Not exactly a surprise, but I've taken a second look at the elevation chart, and I remain too afraid to put it in context for myself. On Sunday I will learn just how that chart translates to reality.
I will also learn how well I have prepared, though I will finish the thing if I have to crawl up those hills on hand and knee. And Sunday night will then involve room service and expensive hotel movies, in the company of my Tiffany finisher's necklace. Because perhaps the most important lesson I've learned, is that tireless perseverance should be handsomely rewarded.
See you on the flip side.
You did it!! :)
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