Monday, January 21, 2013

So this is really happening, huh?

Me on the final mile of the US
Half Marathon in San Francisco.
I doubt I'll be looking so chipper
on the final mile in Boston!
Last weekend, my long run wasn't too terrible - about nine miles. It was still within the realm of "manageable". This weekend the long run jumped up to 11. I made it through the run and was feeling accomplished and content. As more time passed after the run, the feeling that the worst was over increased. Suddenly, reality pimp-slapped me out of my fantasy-land and I realized that the long runs are only going to get longer from here on out. Beyond that, not only am I going to have to battle through longer and longer runs, but I'm going to have to do so every weekend. OH MY GOD, so this is marathon, reality is kind of brutal. 

Going into the run, I had been feeling alright about it, but once you get over 10 miles, I've found that things tend to get pretty real. The legs really started to get pissed at you, your system sometimes launches into hyper-speed digestion and...execution and your attitude can tank real quickly. So with all those possibilities in mind, the run went well: I didn't collapse, crap myself or yell at any strangers. Job well done, I guess. If I can say those same three things after the Boston marathon, I will be a happy girl. 

I kept a consistent pace and only got aches after the run. In fact, while my husband and I were at the movies watching Zero Dark Thirty that night, suddenly I couldn't bear to keep my legs slightly bent anymore. I urgently whispered that I needed to straighten my cramping legs as I jutted my stiff limbs into his personal space. Graham is 6'3'' and is generally too big for anywhere we go and his leg space is at a premium. He kindly didn't exclaim as I thrust my feet into his legs, but just tried to get out of the way without upsetting his drink. He even helped massage the ache out of my legs after the initial panic had subsided. 
See? He's huge and towers over the Guatemalans.

Besides being stuck with me for life, G was probably the person best suited to understand and deal with my sudden leg cramps. In public spaces (buses, planes, theaters, even some restaurants) he is often a giant in a small man's world. On planes, he's pretty jammed no matter what seats he's in and gets slightly claustrophobic in the tight spaces. I often have to try and massage out the"crazy legs" that incapacitates his calves and thighs. Trying to reach his calves in the cramped spaces of coach is a pretty funny and awkward sight for all. Now that I have apparently developed post-long run crazy legs, the score might be evening up. We'll see how many more incidents I'll have that he'll have to handle...isn't marriage awesome G???

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