Running while female has always been a risky endeavor, and when I make reference to recent events in this post, please understand that, although the overall tone of this post is humorous and light, there is nothing light or humorous about the risk of being attacked by a stranger on the street. Ladies, be vigilant. Run with a buddy when possible, and avoid poorly-lit or unpopulated areas. Gentlemen, if you see a woman jogging alone on the street, put her mind at ease by leaving her very alone. Avoid eye contact. Keep a generous distance. Look at your phone. Do anything to reassure her that she is not the least bit interesting to you. She will be watching you like a hawk. Don't do it back. And for the love of all things holy, if you are jogging, do NOT come up behind a woman to pass her. Cross the street or find another road to jog on. No, it's not your fault that she sees all men as potential threats, but stories like mine (and far worse) are so common that it's in her best interest to assume you are a predator, and you can be a helpful citizen of Earth by doing everything in your power to reassure her you're not.
Thank you, and we now return you to your regularly scheduled blog.
In this post, I will be taking you through the process of a Long Run Day, which looks different for every runner. Some athletes can roll out of bed and pound out 14 miles with little preparation or recovery. I am not one of those athletes.
Join me as we start our day: Sunday, September 2nd, 2018 (a retrospective)....
4:30 A.M: The alarm goes off. It's going to be hot today, so I need to run early, while the temperature is still humane. I get up. I question my reasons for choosing to train for this marathon.
4:35 A.M: I weigh myself. I am attempting to assess how much fluid I lose through sweat on these long runs, so I weigh myself first thing in the morning and right after the run.
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| bone broth |
4:40 A.M: I heat up a cup of homemade turkey bone broth (instructions coming soon to a blog near you!).
4:50 A.M: I stir up a protein shake with glutamine and collagen, and a vitamin cocktail with branch chain amino acids.
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| protein shake |
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| vitamins and BCAAs |
5:00 A.M: I spend the next hour consuming (and then un-consuming) the approximately 2 liters of liquid fuel I've just prepared while intermittently stretching and rolling my legs and back out on the torture device also known as the 'foam roller'. It's genetically related to the demonic tennis ball I use to roll out smaller muscles, and the devil's golf ball I use to roll out the bottoms of my feet. I perform my morning ablutions.
6:00 A.M: I pick out today's running outfit. This is more important than you might think. Not only do I have to consider form, fit, and function, but I have to match my socks to my shorts and headband, because I like to look put together for the Instagram selfie. The armbands are made of repurposed knee-high stockings with the toes cut out to help curb armpit chafing. (Running is super glamorous.)
6:25 A.M.: I get my phone all set up with podcast and running app, and I step outside to place the running refreshments on the stoop. It's still cool and the sky is overcast. Sunrise was 5 minutes ago.
6:30 A.M: My husband, who rolled out of bed fifteen minutes ago (he's one of THOSE runners) steps outside to join me. The rubber hits the road and we start our first 5k loop.
6:41 A.M: I took that first mile a little fast. I slow down. I'm saving my juice for the 2/3 push at mile 10. Sebastian Junger is talking to Joe Rogan about how happy he is without a smartphone. My smartphone lovingly tells me how far I've run, what my average pace is, and the time of day. I wonder if I would be happier not knowing. I question my reasons for choosing to train for this marathon.
6:55 A.M: I have to pee already. Hydration is tricky that way. I want to keep my pace slow to start, but it's a mile and a half back to home and I'd kind of like to hurry. I try to relax and keep my pace slow and steady.
7:10 A.M: I take the first of what will be two potty breaks (to be expected when I only give myself and hour and a half to hydrate before running.) The husband waits outside, stretching. He is a camel and has consumed about 3 ounces of fluid this morning.
7:20 A.M: I notice that not many people are out right now. I remember that, for most humans, this is considered an early hour for a Sunday. I've been awake for nearly three hours already. I wonder what it would be like to be the kind of person who sleeps in till noon on the weekend and meets friends for brunch when the sun is already past its zenith. I remember that, while I love friends, I hate brunch. I notice that the sun is burning through the clouds. It's getting warm. Sebastian Junger says that social media is destroying our culture and making us solitary creatures.
7:45 A.M: I start to realize the ramifications of my earlier realization. There are very few people on the street, and I notice what a dangerous time on a Sunday this is. My neighborhood is relatively safe, but so was the suburb where I was jumped 20 years ago. I thank my husband for joining me this morning.
8:15 A.M: Now the sun is really out. I'm breaking a sweat. Last week was squat-intensive at my CrossFit Gym. Self-pity is telling me that my legs are getting tired. No, they're not. Yes, they are. No, they're not. SUCK IT UP AND DEAL, DIANNA.
8:20 A.M: I question my reasons for choosing to train for this marathon. I question my reasons for running at all.
8:30 A.M: 4 miles left to go. I take another pee break, wanting to finish the run in relative comfort. The husband tells me he's going to do small laps around the block to finish his 4 miles. I tell him I'll join him. I last one lap and decide that I can't handle the shortness of the loop--it's too maddening to be that close to home. I decide to run on my own. We kiss and split up for the last 5k.
8:35 A.M: It's hot. I question my reasons for choosing to train for this marathon. I question my reasons for running at all.
Sebastian Junger describes the neurochemical benefits of practicing generosity.
I remember one reason for choosing to train for this marathon. I remember the 280,000 breast cancer patients desperate for a cure. I remember that we still have $3,500 to raise for our campaign for Team Think Pink Rocks.
Sure, I'm not.
8:40 A.M: I notice that it's still pretty quiet on the streets, but that one guy is looking me straight in the eye as a car pulls up alongside while I pass him. I reassure myself chances are slim that I'm about to be abducted. Try not to think of Mollie Tibbets. I cross the street. Another guy looks me straight in the eye. Run faster. Get off this street. Get off this street. Get off this street. Turn the corner. Run faster. Your legs aren't tired. You're fine. I glance back ONE time (because you're not afraid you're not afraid you're not afraid. You're just checking.) No one there. Of course not. You're fine.
I slow down and start to relax. The sun is bright and it's getting hotter.
8:50 A.M: Sebastian Junger is done, and now Russell Brand is talking about his battle with addiction. This podcast is depressing me. I switch to 'The Dollop'.
8:55 A.M: These comedians are annoying me. I'm tired of listening to people talk. I decide I don't like podcasts anymore. I put on Spotify.
9:05 A.M: Spotify just Rickrolled me. I chose wisely.
9:10 A. M: I move my phone into my hand as I tick down the last tenths of the last mile.
9:15 A.M: 14.2 miles done. I stop the app and walk back home (I like to finish a few blocks away from home for a post-run stroll). I take a little video for the 'anti-social media' (as Sebastian Junger calls it). My legs become more and more cramped the longer I walk. Home gets farther and farther away.
I question my reasons for choosing to train for this marathon. I question my reasons for running at all. I question my reasons for existing in this universe.
Nothing matters. Everything matters. We're all made of stars.
9:25 A.M: Selfie time! Existential dread cured by Instagram. I meet up with the husband and we take our weekly "please please please help us raise money to fight breast cancer" picture. I feel good about my outfit selection.
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| blueberry kombucha |
9:30 A.M: I peel off my soaking wet gear and weigh myself. I have lost three (net) pounds of liquid since the start of the day. I begin my re-hydration with a bottle of homemade blueberry kombucha (more on kombucha coming soon to a blog near you!)
I spend the rest of the day napping, lounging in the hammock, and sitting by the fire. Because my legs aren't very tired a lot at all.
I take to the internet to beg anyone who will listen to please, please, please help us raise money to fight breast cancer. We really do need everyone's help; even small donations can make a big difference to our cause, which was chosen in honor of the too-many friends and family we have known to become unwitting warriors in a crusade for their own wellness. The link below will take you to our Crowdrise site, and if you prefer to send a check, please send us know, and we can give you the instructions for donations by check. A million thanks to everyone who has helped us so far, and thanks in advance for the gifts yet to come.
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