The Unknown Runner

This past weekend I got the chance to experience some serious physical endurance. I completed my first triathlon (A sprint with abysmal results, but who cares, I finished it) and I got the chance to check off the Nike Women's Run series off my running bucket list.

As I flew up to San Fran to meet up with a friend who was also running it, I heard women on the plane talking about it, women on the shuttle discussing nerves, and women carb loading in local Italian joints. I got the chance to meet a woman (my friend's friend) who was making this her first 1/2 marathon. It was exciting to talk about where to put the glide and how to avoid chafe. I remember waking up at 1 thinking "I forgot to tell her not to stop running if she gets tired or else she might cramp!" The waiting in the corral was impressive. I was surrounded by women cheering, dancing to "who runs the world." I saw a few good men there ready to get their run on for a Tiffany's necklace. It was an amazing energy. I felt really empowered as a woman.

I always break down my 1/2 marathons into 3 sections: just get to mile 6, then get to mile 10, then 3 more miles. It helps me mentally. After ascending and descending like a mad woman I turned the foggy corner that would lead me to the .1 of the whole 13.1 affair.  I saw that beautiful Tiffany blue finish. I was ready to do my crazy face finish for the cameras, however as I got closer I noticed something was off.

Something was out of place in that place of joy we call the finish line.

 I saw a man laying on the floor right before the finish. He was surrounded by paramedics, his friends and/or family, and a stretcher. As I got closer, I saw the awful sight of this runner getting chest compressions. I've read of runners collapsing, having heart attacks, but I've never been close to see the aftermath.

The joyful yells and exuberant faces were such a contrast to the look of worry on the face of the woman next to him. She was wrapped in a Mylar blanket, on the phone. Her face sticks out. It didn't make sense, the whole scene didn't make sense.

The finish of a race is a celebration of life and triumph. It's amazing and exhausting and to see the jarring sight of one of my running family down was hard.

I think about him.

Did he survive?  Did he pass away?

Did he make it? Is he recuperating in some hospital? If so, will he be able to run again?

I think about his family and friends. It was great having my mom meet me at the finish line and my friends giving me mad props on facebook. I think about this runner's family, who came to wish him luck and who had to face the possible horror of losing someone. I wonder if instead of celebrating a triumph they are grieving a loss.

I wonder about this unknown runner. If he passed away, did he pass away doing what he loved? I hope he did not suffer. Whenever I meet other runners I feel like we're in a secret insane club that few know about. To see a runner down is to see someone in our secret club down. It hits too close to home, because that could have been any one of us.

To the unknown runner: I hope your ok and you can keep feeling the burn and the shin splints. If you've moved passed this plane into the other, know that I'll think of you on my next run and say a prayer for your family and friends. I'll invent a new memory to replace the tragic one. I'll imagine a man with the fog in his face, getting that runner's high, planning for the next big race.

Year of the Sneaker: LA Marathon – 2 days to go and very much counting.

So it’s finally here. After 6 months of training and what seemed like a good idea 6 months ago is finally here: The L.A. Marathon! (Heads up, never sign up for anything after finishing a race. Those runners highs make everything seem like a good idea.) I got sick earlier this week, which was not bueno, and had me a feeling a little nervous. But, it seems I’m very much on the mend! (thanks to all my concerned friends for checking up on me J).

Training for a marathon is no joke. It requires dedication probably more than stamina. I have to say that the training and running is 90% mental 10% physical. There were many times when my body was saying “eff you, we’re done” and I was like “uh no we’re not.”

For those of you who say “I can’t run a mile.” It isn’t about what you can and can’t run, it’s about if you believe you’re capable of it.  I know, sounds cheesy, but believing in your capability to train and dedicate is what’s going to pull you through running in the rain, heat, and up hills.  You will learn a lot about yourself as you train. I learned that I can actually convince my body to keep pushing forward and how incredibly important it is to have personal cheerleaders along the way.

Things I’ve learned in training:

1) Don’t layer too much. There is nothing worse than over heating. Yeah you feel cold now, but trust me, you’ll get warm.

2) If you think you wont chafe, you will. I would love to show you my permanent scars under my boobs and on my shoulders. Lube up before you run!

3) Never join a marathon or ½ marathon because 1) it sounds like fun 2) you’re doing it to make someone else happy 3) you want to loose weight.

            - it isn’t always fun, and you will have serious moments of “FUCK THIS SHIT”

- Running is a personal thing,  and doing it for someone else may end up making you miserable in the long run (no pun intended)

            - I’ve gained 10 lbs since running. Part muscle, part voracious appetite!

4) Pushing yourself is important- both for physical and mental endurance

5) Everything tastes magical after a long run

6) Buy a Garmin forerunner. I wish I hadn’t waited so long to get mine! This thing is awesome and great for continued speed training.

7.) Watch what you eat. You don’t want to embarrass yourself because you decided to eat beans the night before.

 8.) Sports bras should keep you nice and compact and prevent jiggling

9) Shin splints will make you bruise from the inside out

10) I never thought there would be a time when I would be more excited about buying running shoes and clothes than regular clothes.

I don’t intend on this being my last marathon, but instead the 1^st  of many. I hope my future will hold some Ragnar events, triathlon, and maybe someday, qualifying for Boston.