I guess I should have seen it coming.
After five weeks of not being able to run longer than about 3-5 miles without major pain to my right knee because of IT band issues, I've decided to defer my entry to the NYC Marathon until next year.
I'll still be able to transfer all the money I've raised for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society through Team in Training, and I'll still be able to run the race next year, but as you can probably guess, I'm pretty depressed about it.
I can only share what I've learned to hopefully help others dealing with the same thing, and of course, a few thoughts about what it means for me personally.
1. "IT Bands like rest." This was said to me the first week at practice I told my coaches about my knee/hip issues. I got a bunch of different responses from people who'd had IT issues, but this one stuck with me. With three long runs still to get in before the race, I couldn't rest--I had to keep going. But now looking back, I wish I'd just taken two solid weeks off my leg, and then tried to come back, vs. just running on it every odd day, just injuring it more.
2. Acupuncture works. Coach Ramon told me about this great sports acupuncturist Colleen Canyon. I definitely believe in Eastern medicine, but with my knee completely locked up, I was skeptical it would work. Amazingly, even after the first treatment of about 25 needles stuck directly into the parts of my knee that were hurting, I began to feel all the tension dissolve away. The next day at practice I was able to run about five miles without feeling any pain. Unfortunately I was on such a high that as soon as I did, I kept running for another mile, setting me back a lot. It continued to help my leg loosen up, but unfortunately not enough to allow me to run as long as I needed.
3. Trust yourself. This was the hardest and biggest lesson for me this time. Not wanting to give up until the very last minute, I asked just about everyone their opinion, and have literally run around going to five appointments a week to try to rehab my leg. Coaches, my physical therapist, my acupuncturist, friends, random people with IT issues. Each one had a different piece of advice. Some people told me just to keep going, that every runner has had injuries, and that if you keep training, any way you can, you'll get out there on race day and just feel enough pure adrenaline to carry you through. People who'd had IT issues told me to stop running, start rolling, and rest. How would I keep up my fitness for the race, I thought? Deep down, I knew that my body was telling me something this time around--that it wasn't going to hold up for 26.6 miles again this year. Once I finally made the decision to defer earlier this week, a weight felt lifted and I knew it was the right decision for me.
I still feel very guilty for letting everyone down who's generously donated to my running fund. And I worry that this backslide in not completing what I said I would says something, too. Like that first marathon--and my newfound resolve--was a fluke. But I do know that with a winter to rest up, and hopefully strengthen my leg, I'll go into next year's training even more reinvigorated than the first time.
Here's hoping.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
the pros of pain
When I started this blog, I knew I'd be writing about the highs and lows, but I never realized how each leg of this journey would take me past all of the significant running milestones.
I've written about the great long runs, the not-so-great ones, the thrill of completing my first marathon, and the guilt of sitting on the couch when I could be running a race. I guess it was inevitable, but now it's time to write about the dark side of running...getting injured. And of course, it wouldn't be Unlikeliest Marathoner if I couldn't find a lesson or two nestled within the nebula.
So far, two Saturdays have passed since my longest run yet, 17 miles, and both I've tried to go out and run a modest amount. And both times I've had to stop at 4 miles because my knee has felt like it would collapse beneath me. I've tried to hobble run, run on the balls of my toes, and even a combo walk/run, and each time, my knee would just send shooting darts of pain up my thigh, laughing at me, like, you know this won't work. I've been going to physical therapy and doing my exercises and ice, and though my right leg feels much stronger, and I'm now able to walk pretty well, my body has gone on strike.
It's been frustrating to say the least, and as each day passes, and my leg still continues to give out on me, a dark thought keeps creeping in...what if I can't do my long runs, or worse, what if I'm going to feel this way the day of the race.
I hate to even think about it, and what it would mean. I'd have to tell everyone who's so generously donated to me that I had to back out. And not to mention that dream of crossing the finish line in Central Park that I've been holding onto with each run would disappear. Okay, maybe I'm being a little melodramatic, but for someone who until only recently was not so great at completing things, it feels like I'm back at square one.
But, still, in all of this, there have been a few silver linings. For one, I've encountered a whole new community: physical therapy. It's so weird as a person who's so in her head all the time to meet people so heavily focused on what their bodies can do that they'd be willing to devote three hours a week, and $40 copays, so they could compete. And the weirdest part? I am now one of those people. I've woken up for 7:30 AM sessions with my physical trainer, and actually enjoyed spending the better part of an hour trying to strengthen this funny part of my musculature. It's actually pretty calming, in a different way than running. Like, it's okay to be so body-obsessed and have someone else really care about my leg and my goal other than me.
Another lesson? In order to get through this, I have to be on my body's side. I can't run through the pain, and I can't curse my knee for giving out on me. I got my knee into this, and now I'm going to have to get it out. The more I get frustrated, the more my body seems to hold out on me, like it's taunting me...you think you're going to run long, heh, I can wait just as long as you can. So I have to seduce it back onto my side with plenty of special treatment: massages, ice baths, rest. I guess I owe it as much for getting me through the first marathon pain-free.
And the funniest part? I'm willing to do anything if it works. Today I even went to a sports acupuncturist on W. 20th street and had about 20 needles stuck into various parts of my leg today to try to release the muscle's trigger points. And you know what? It feels a whole lot better (even better than after the PT massages.)
So hopefully, I'll come out of all this soon--my next practice is tomorrow. The pain, just another reminder that taking it slow and steady always pays off.
I've written about the great long runs, the not-so-great ones, the thrill of completing my first marathon, and the guilt of sitting on the couch when I could be running a race. I guess it was inevitable, but now it's time to write about the dark side of running...getting injured. And of course, it wouldn't be Unlikeliest Marathoner if I couldn't find a lesson or two nestled within the nebula.
So far, two Saturdays have passed since my longest run yet, 17 miles, and both I've tried to go out and run a modest amount. And both times I've had to stop at 4 miles because my knee has felt like it would collapse beneath me. I've tried to hobble run, run on the balls of my toes, and even a combo walk/run, and each time, my knee would just send shooting darts of pain up my thigh, laughing at me, like, you know this won't work. I've been going to physical therapy and doing my exercises and ice, and though my right leg feels much stronger, and I'm now able to walk pretty well, my body has gone on strike.
It's been frustrating to say the least, and as each day passes, and my leg still continues to give out on me, a dark thought keeps creeping in...what if I can't do my long runs, or worse, what if I'm going to feel this way the day of the race.
I hate to even think about it, and what it would mean. I'd have to tell everyone who's so generously donated to me that I had to back out. And not to mention that dream of crossing the finish line in Central Park that I've been holding onto with each run would disappear. Okay, maybe I'm being a little melodramatic, but for someone who until only recently was not so great at completing things, it feels like I'm back at square one.
But, still, in all of this, there have been a few silver linings. For one, I've encountered a whole new community: physical therapy. It's so weird as a person who's so in her head all the time to meet people so heavily focused on what their bodies can do that they'd be willing to devote three hours a week, and $40 copays, so they could compete. And the weirdest part? I am now one of those people. I've woken up for 7:30 AM sessions with my physical trainer, and actually enjoyed spending the better part of an hour trying to strengthen this funny part of my musculature. It's actually pretty calming, in a different way than running. Like, it's okay to be so body-obsessed and have someone else really care about my leg and my goal other than me.
Another lesson? In order to get through this, I have to be on my body's side. I can't run through the pain, and I can't curse my knee for giving out on me. I got my knee into this, and now I'm going to have to get it out. The more I get frustrated, the more my body seems to hold out on me, like it's taunting me...you think you're going to run long, heh, I can wait just as long as you can. So I have to seduce it back onto my side with plenty of special treatment: massages, ice baths, rest. I guess I owe it as much for getting me through the first marathon pain-free.
And the funniest part? I'm willing to do anything if it works. Today I even went to a sports acupuncturist on W. 20th street and had about 20 needles stuck into various parts of my leg today to try to release the muscle's trigger points. And you know what? It feels a whole lot better (even better than after the PT massages.)
So hopefully, I'll come out of all this soon--my next practice is tomorrow. The pain, just another reminder that taking it slow and steady always pays off.
Monday, September 21, 2009
diary of an injury
This post will go in reverse chronological order...you'll see where it's all going soon enough:
8:32 PM, Saturday, Sept. 21: Finished running 1.7 miles (my favorite, the reservoir, where it all began.) This time though, instead of the mild September air cooling me off as I ran charging to beat twilight, it was broken up into three segments: the amounts I could run without pain, coupled with walking.
3:30 PM, Sunday, Sept. 20: Ran 2 1/2 miles, from 83rd to Cat Hill, instead of running the Queens Half Marathon as I was supposed to, due to my knee locking and seizing. Silent prayers to the running gods spoken the whole time.
1:00 PM, Friday, Sept. 19: Walking to work, feeling my the sides of my knee inflame in pain, but at least it only started at 60th street this time vs. 72nd street.
7:20 PM, Thursday Sept. 18: Trying to run the reservoir, since my knee doesn't feel like it's going to break into pieces every time I step on my right leg. Nope, can only make it a quarter mile before the pain comes back.
1:00 PM, Wednesday Sept. 17: Brad, my new psychical therapist at New York Sports Medicine, tells me I've definitely got an ITL band injury after a quick inspection to my muscles, knees, and new lopsided gait. I should not run the Queens Marathon or any long run until things start to improve.
1:00 PM, Sunday, Sept. 14: I cannot move my right leg without it feeling like it's going to collapse underneath me like a dried out, dead tree limb.
1:01 PM, Saturday, Sept. 13: Hmmm, what's that feeling? My knee's locking up a bit--must remember to stretch a little more after 17-mile runs more often--but wasn't that awesome? I feel sleepy.
12:59 PM, Saturday, Sept. 13: I did it! I just ran 17 miles! And just like last time, the trek over the GW Bridge into NJ was a magic run, the kind that remind you why you are a runner. The miles floated by as I found myself deep in thought, or well, not really thinking about anything, which is the whole reason I started running to begin with.
7:37 AM, Saturday, Sept. 13: Okay, a little nervous. Haven't run in, well, about 10 days, after a seven-day trip to Panama. Maybe I should have just toughed it out down there and got in a few short runs to keep my muscles firing. Well, we'll just see how this goes. I should try to do about 15 miles today, not push myself.
12:30 PM, Monday, August 30: Just ran 14 miles and they actually felt good! Training is paying off, finally! I ran all the way from my apartment down the west side highway up the east river to Central Park. I need to update everyone on unlikeliest marathoner because my last post about my running malaise was pretty grim.
And there you have it, folks. In the past three weeks, my running track record speaks for itself. I've overdone the long runs, skimped on the short ones, and have gained one ITL band injury. It's feeling a little better thanks to PT every other day, and I'm hoping it will continue to improve with daily muscle strengthening exercises. But right now, my first 18-miler looms ahead this weekend, and if my throbbing knee has anything to say about it, I might be forced to make some difficult choices.
Stay tuned for freakout post coming soon.
Wish me luck.
8:32 PM, Saturday, Sept. 21: Finished running 1.7 miles (my favorite, the reservoir, where it all began.) This time though, instead of the mild September air cooling me off as I ran charging to beat twilight, it was broken up into three segments: the amounts I could run without pain, coupled with walking.
3:30 PM, Sunday, Sept. 20: Ran 2 1/2 miles, from 83rd to Cat Hill, instead of running the Queens Half Marathon as I was supposed to, due to my knee locking and seizing. Silent prayers to the running gods spoken the whole time.
1:00 PM, Friday, Sept. 19: Walking to work, feeling my the sides of my knee inflame in pain, but at least it only started at 60th street this time vs. 72nd street.
7:20 PM, Thursday Sept. 18: Trying to run the reservoir, since my knee doesn't feel like it's going to break into pieces every time I step on my right leg. Nope, can only make it a quarter mile before the pain comes back.
1:00 PM, Wednesday Sept. 17: Brad, my new psychical therapist at New York Sports Medicine, tells me I've definitely got an ITL band injury after a quick inspection to my muscles, knees, and new lopsided gait. I should not run the Queens Marathon or any long run until things start to improve.
1:00 PM, Sunday, Sept. 14: I cannot move my right leg without it feeling like it's going to collapse underneath me like a dried out, dead tree limb.
1:01 PM, Saturday, Sept. 13: Hmmm, what's that feeling? My knee's locking up a bit--must remember to stretch a little more after 17-mile runs more often--but wasn't that awesome? I feel sleepy.
12:59 PM, Saturday, Sept. 13: I did it! I just ran 17 miles! And just like last time, the trek over the GW Bridge into NJ was a magic run, the kind that remind you why you are a runner. The miles floated by as I found myself deep in thought, or well, not really thinking about anything, which is the whole reason I started running to begin with.
7:37 AM, Saturday, Sept. 13: Okay, a little nervous. Haven't run in, well, about 10 days, after a seven-day trip to Panama. Maybe I should have just toughed it out down there and got in a few short runs to keep my muscles firing. Well, we'll just see how this goes. I should try to do about 15 miles today, not push myself.
12:30 PM, Monday, August 30: Just ran 14 miles and they actually felt good! Training is paying off, finally! I ran all the way from my apartment down the west side highway up the east river to Central Park. I need to update everyone on unlikeliest marathoner because my last post about my running malaise was pretty grim.
And there you have it, folks. In the past three weeks, my running track record speaks for itself. I've overdone the long runs, skimped on the short ones, and have gained one ITL band injury. It's feeling a little better thanks to PT every other day, and I'm hoping it will continue to improve with daily muscle strengthening exercises. But right now, my first 18-miler looms ahead this weekend, and if my throbbing knee has anything to say about it, I might be forced to make some difficult choices.
Stay tuned for freakout post coming soon.
Wish me luck.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
ups and downs
Okay, so I wish I had some good news.
Like, for example, training to run my second marathon is miraculously easier than the first. It's like I'm this Olympic marathon runner. And every long run feels like running through a field of wheat in the sun on a mild summer day.
Well, yeah, actually it's the exact opposite.
The past few long runs have been pretty hellish. To be exact, the past three long runs (11, 12, 13) have felt like torture. Each one, worse than the previous one. Yes, I've completed them, but like the Bronx run, it's been tough. Not a magic run by any means. The kind of run where you start already wondering when it's going to end, and the subsequent next few hours are an exercise in patience, mental toughness, and sheer will power.
I'd heard runs were like this--the kind where it's all about pain, not pleasure. And I'd experienced a few. But not for the most part. So this time feels a little scary. And the fact that today I was supposed to run 14, and I didn't thanks to hurricane Danny, makes me worry a bit about my overall commitment this time. Will I catch up? Will I have a bad second marathon?
I guess these feelings of doubt are normal, but as an unlikeliest marathoner, I guess it's not necessarily a given each time. Could it have been a fluke?
Any encouragement would be greatly appreciated.
xoxo, Meg
Like, for example, training to run my second marathon is miraculously easier than the first. It's like I'm this Olympic marathon runner. And every long run feels like running through a field of wheat in the sun on a mild summer day.
Well, yeah, actually it's the exact opposite.
The past few long runs have been pretty hellish. To be exact, the past three long runs (11, 12, 13) have felt like torture. Each one, worse than the previous one. Yes, I've completed them, but like the Bronx run, it's been tough. Not a magic run by any means. The kind of run where you start already wondering when it's going to end, and the subsequent next few hours are an exercise in patience, mental toughness, and sheer will power.
I'd heard runs were like this--the kind where it's all about pain, not pleasure. And I'd experienced a few. But not for the most part. So this time feels a little scary. And the fact that today I was supposed to run 14, and I didn't thanks to hurricane Danny, makes me worry a bit about my overall commitment this time. Will I catch up? Will I have a bad second marathon?
I guess these feelings of doubt are normal, but as an unlikeliest marathoner, I guess it's not necessarily a given each time. Could it have been a fluke?
Any encouragement would be greatly appreciated.
xoxo, Meg
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
take that, President's Challenge!
If you're a child of the '80s, you probably remember the President's Challenge in gym class. And if you were unathletic, like me, you probably feel a twinge of dread even now just thinking about it.
I'm sure whichever administration created the twice-yearly fitness test probably wasn't trying to traumatize a whole generation of young people by the sheer thought of running around the track, but unfortunately, for me at least, that was the end result.
At the start of every year in gym beginning in the sixth grade, fresh from spending my summers sitting in the sun at Preston Beach in Massachusetts, leisurely biking or rollerblading around town, all doughy and soft, the first thing we'd have to do in gym class was take a series of fitness tests ending in running four times around the track to complete a mile as fast as we could. And to top it off, our gym teacher, Mr. Roland, would urge us to make it under 10 minutes, clocking each loop with all the empathy of a boot-camp drill sergeant preparing us for battle.
Of course the track stars and skinny guys and girls usually made it pretty easily. I, on the other hand, usually came in last or in the last group, pains in my side, red-faced, and in one particularly awkward stage, ready to puke on the grass. You'd think if they'd at least let us train up to it, say, maybe having us do once around the track, then twice, then three times, leading up to the fourth week where we finally were asked to go all out, but no--they threw us into the deep end to see if we'd make it, or die trying.
It wasn't pretty, and thinking back now, it's probably why I hung up the running sneaks for the last 20 years.
So I kind of chuckled today at practice when they told us we were going to run the mile, as fast as we could, twice, just to find out our best times.
No fear shook through my bones, thankfully, since after having run a marathon, nothing in the realm of running scares me that much anymore. But as I talked to my fellow teammates, they had the same stories of being last in that gym class 1-mile test.
Maybe in every marathoner, or at least of the unlikeliest variety, there's a 11-year-old girl or guy trying to redeem themselves and prove that yes, they too can run a fast mile, or 26.
So I ran today, as fast as I could, clocking in my first mile at 8:54. Not bad considering I'd usually run 11-minute miles and the fastest I'd run in a race was 10:08 in the recent Scotland 10K. The next one was a little slower: 9:56 or so, but still not bad. Take that, Mr. Roland, with your knee-length tube socks, short shorts with your tee-shirt tucked in too tight!
On the outside, I was still panting and red-faced, but my inner tween wasn't breaking a sweat.
I'm sure whichever administration created the twice-yearly fitness test probably wasn't trying to traumatize a whole generation of young people by the sheer thought of running around the track, but unfortunately, for me at least, that was the end result.
At the start of every year in gym beginning in the sixth grade, fresh from spending my summers sitting in the sun at Preston Beach in Massachusetts, leisurely biking or rollerblading around town, all doughy and soft, the first thing we'd have to do in gym class was take a series of fitness tests ending in running four times around the track to complete a mile as fast as we could. And to top it off, our gym teacher, Mr. Roland, would urge us to make it under 10 minutes, clocking each loop with all the empathy of a boot-camp drill sergeant preparing us for battle.
Of course the track stars and skinny guys and girls usually made it pretty easily. I, on the other hand, usually came in last or in the last group, pains in my side, red-faced, and in one particularly awkward stage, ready to puke on the grass. You'd think if they'd at least let us train up to it, say, maybe having us do once around the track, then twice, then three times, leading up to the fourth week where we finally were asked to go all out, but no--they threw us into the deep end to see if we'd make it, or die trying.
It wasn't pretty, and thinking back now, it's probably why I hung up the running sneaks for the last 20 years.
So I kind of chuckled today at practice when they told us we were going to run the mile, as fast as we could, twice, just to find out our best times.
No fear shook through my bones, thankfully, since after having run a marathon, nothing in the realm of running scares me that much anymore. But as I talked to my fellow teammates, they had the same stories of being last in that gym class 1-mile test.
Maybe in every marathoner, or at least of the unlikeliest variety, there's a 11-year-old girl or guy trying to redeem themselves and prove that yes, they too can run a fast mile, or 26.
So I ran today, as fast as I could, clocking in my first mile at 8:54. Not bad considering I'd usually run 11-minute miles and the fastest I'd run in a race was 10:08 in the recent Scotland 10K. The next one was a little slower: 9:56 or so, but still not bad. Take that, Mr. Roland, with your knee-length tube socks, short shorts with your tee-shirt tucked in too tight!
On the outside, I was still panting and red-faced, but my inner tween wasn't breaking a sweat.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
second time around
It's good to be back, training for my second marathon--the ING NYC marathon, on November 1. Well, sorta. Let me explain.
The Great Part:
*Seeing teammates from Rome at practice, like my buddy Van, and Coach Ramon.
*Getting excited to accomplish something big again.
*The familiarity of running in the park, and even the training sessions.
*Telling people I'm running a marathon (never, ever gets old).
*Looking forward to the Saturday afternoon long-run high.
*Running in warmer weather than I'm used to.
*Getting to eat anything and everything again.
The Scary Part:
*Realizing four miles feels more difficult than the last 20-miler before Rome.
*Feeling the familiar itch to skip practice, and finding myself actually skipping--eek!
*Worrying the training sessions will feel too familiar, lack newness.
*Telling people I'm running NYC and knowing they will be watching.
*Giving up summertime Friday night happy hours with friends.
*Running in the dead heat of summer.
*Worrying that my body's some how acclimated and slowed down my metabolism.
Yes, I have doubts, but like I learned the last time around, running a marathon is about seeing the positive. I can't wait to slow jog through all five boroughs, slapping friend's and stranger's hands, hearing "go Meg," feeling the strange/amazing yin/yang of the runner's high and sheer exhaustion, and of course, crossing the finish line and the after-party that awaits.
Think it's too early to book the back room at the Parlour (86th and Broadway!) See you all there!
xoxo, Meg
The Great Part:
*Seeing teammates from Rome at practice, like my buddy Van, and Coach Ramon.
*Getting excited to accomplish something big again.
*The familiarity of running in the park, and even the training sessions.
*Telling people I'm running a marathon (never, ever gets old).
*Looking forward to the Saturday afternoon long-run high.
*Running in warmer weather than I'm used to.
*Getting to eat anything and everything again.
The Scary Part:
*Realizing four miles feels more difficult than the last 20-miler before Rome.
*Feeling the familiar itch to skip practice, and finding myself actually skipping--eek!
*Worrying the training sessions will feel too familiar, lack newness.
*Telling people I'm running NYC and knowing they will be watching.
*Giving up summertime Friday night happy hours with friends.
*Running in the dead heat of summer.
*Worrying that my body's some how acclimated and slowed down my metabolism.
Yes, I have doubts, but like I learned the last time around, running a marathon is about seeing the positive. I can't wait to slow jog through all five boroughs, slapping friend's and stranger's hands, hearing "go Meg," feeling the strange/amazing yin/yang of the runner's high and sheer exhaustion, and of course, crossing the finish line and the after-party that awaits.
Think it's too early to book the back room at the Parlour (86th and Broadway!) See you all there!
xoxo, Meg
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
back in the saddle
In the months after you've just run 26 miles and completed your first-ever marathon, there are two ways things could go:
A) You stick with the long-run Saturdays, sign up for a bunch of races and make sure to get out there at least a few weekday mornings to keep up your speed and endurance. You find yourself clocking your best times yet!
B) You email every last friend you missed over the past four months, start scheduling regular happy-hours, and generally sit on the couch, catching up on DVR'd Gossip Girls and How I Met Your Mothers. You discover your best takeout pad thai restaurant yet!
Guess which one I chose?
Aw, that was too easy. Yup, pathway B, which, made it all the more fun to get back to my very first Saturday practice this past week, since I've now, gulp, signed up for the ING NYC marathon this fall. Not only have I promised to again beg all my friends for money for charity, but they'll actually be there cheering me on this time, making sure that I actually go through with it!
So as you'd expect with my strict adherence to plan b these past coupla months, this past Saturday was kinda funny (see, I'm even getting lazy in my grammar!) Though the four-mile run was surprisingly hard, the air felt great (so fun now that it's not minus seven!), and my stress levels about actually completing it were pretty much non-existant.
They say sophomores are wise fools, and I'm guessing that this time for my second effort, I can see myself being overly confident in what I can accomplish, but that's all part of the fun of practicing something til you get it just right, right?
So watch me as I take on Unlikeliest Marathon II: Sex in the City...hee hee.
xoxo, Meg
A) You stick with the long-run Saturdays, sign up for a bunch of races and make sure to get out there at least a few weekday mornings to keep up your speed and endurance. You find yourself clocking your best times yet!
B) You email every last friend you missed over the past four months, start scheduling regular happy-hours, and generally sit on the couch, catching up on DVR'd Gossip Girls and How I Met Your Mothers. You discover your best takeout pad thai restaurant yet!
Guess which one I chose?
Aw, that was too easy. Yup, pathway B, which, made it all the more fun to get back to my very first Saturday practice this past week, since I've now, gulp, signed up for the ING NYC marathon this fall. Not only have I promised to again beg all my friends for money for charity, but they'll actually be there cheering me on this time, making sure that I actually go through with it!
So as you'd expect with my strict adherence to plan b these past coupla months, this past Saturday was kinda funny (see, I'm even getting lazy in my grammar!) Though the four-mile run was surprisingly hard, the air felt great (so fun now that it's not minus seven!), and my stress levels about actually completing it were pretty much non-existant.
They say sophomores are wise fools, and I'm guessing that this time for my second effort, I can see myself being overly confident in what I can accomplish, but that's all part of the fun of practicing something til you get it just right, right?
So watch me as I take on Unlikeliest Marathon II: Sex in the City...hee hee.
xoxo, Meg
