Marathon Matters

He Said: I wish there was no finish line

2006-03-29T21:10:00.000-05:00

We tried hard to do this marathon thing. We had fun runs. Planned our training but because of life in the big city we never got to our goal. But it had the greatest moments in my life. Running in central park, the two of us in stride together, nothing but our breathing telling each other that we were working together on something special. Running in Florida in the heat, looking at each other with admiration for each others hard work. Celebrating a run by drinking red wine and watching the sun set, telling each other how much we were in love, with each other. How I wish that moment stayed forever. Going to Paris and watching the poor Parisians try and run amongst the shoppers and cafe hoppers. Saying how you cannot train for a marathon in Paris. But life got in the way of our goal of running the marathon. But I do not regret trying.

Gelly. I love you. I'll never forget our attempt. Maybe one day...

She said: Yeah baby, yeah

2006-01-07T23:17:00.000-05:00

Today: 10.5 miles in the cold. Yeah baby, yeah.

She said: Pulled in all directions

2006-01-07T09:43:00.000-05:00

Lately, I've felt exhausted - not so much physically, but emotionally and mentally. Work has been good, but every morning there's a new pile of things to do on my desk, from expenses to file to restaurant reviews to edit. As I try to whittle away at these chores, new tasks arise and I constantly feel the pressure of having something to do. The second job doesn't help: I'm now working with a student whom I see three times a week. And then there's yoga, a newfound joy that requires a certain amount of time if I want to get better (which, come on, you know I do). And finally, the marathon, looming larger every day. A 10-miler to put in this weekend, soon followed by 12, 14, 16, 18, 20... It overwhelms. I told my friend that I felt like saltwater taffy and he correctly told me I needed to work on my metaphors: Taffy is pulled in two directions, not eight. Still, you know what I'm saying: pulled in all directions, stretched just a little bit too thin.

Luckily, today is my last day tutoring for about a month. I'm taking a hiatus, letting myself breathe a little. My next class will start sometime in February, giving me four long weeks of no obligations other than job number one. I can't even tell you how excited I am.

And, perhaps more importantly, in less than a week, Andrew and I leave for Paris. A spontaneous decision, I was, frankly, shocked that Andrew agreed to it. But he's never been to Paris, and as for me, it's been way too long. These feet need to put on those travelling shoes more often than most. We will, of course, visit the Louvre and the Pompidou, eat at bistros and drink cafes cremes while people-watching. And we will most definitely not run. Which I'm hoping will re-invigorate me for the long marathon road ahead.

For now, though, it's 10 miles or bust. Still contemplating whether to brave the chilly weather or to say hello to my new best friend, the treadmill. I'll let you know how it goes...

She said: Running to eat

2005-12-31T04:19:00.000-05:00

Last night, I took Andrew to a press (read: free) dinner at a steakhouse called Flames. The ambiance left a little to be desired (think: a medley of Madonna, George Michael, Bryan Adams and Melissa Etheridge, coral walls and empty tables), but the meal more than made up for it and the music jogged memories and inspired funny stories (my next door neighbor vacuuming to Meatloaf or my mom's love for Bryan Adams and Mel Gibson). The appetizers were standard - nothing offensive about the chopped tomato and avocado salad or lobster bisque - but the real test of a steakhouse is, well, it's steak. I can't honestly remember when I've enjoyed a steak so much: the Porterhouse was seared to perfection, crispy and tender, just rare enough. We also topped off a bottle of wine (despite our protests - we wanted wine by the glass - the cheery Albanian waiter brought over a bottle of cabernet sauvignon, St. Francis Reserve, insisting that if we didn't drink it, he would finish it off for us), picked at broccoli rabe and mashed potatoes and still somehow had room for some sort of vanilla and chocolate mousse concoction. To be fair, we took a sizeable amount of steak home, but still: good thing I put in that seven-miler yesterday morning.

Ah yes: You knew somehow this was related to running. It may seem that I'm much more interesting in eating than I am in running. To be fair, I do love a good run, but on most days, when given the option - run or eat - well, Cuban rice and beans, homemade baked ziti, chocolate chip cookies or Porterhouse steak usually win out. Still, eating, for me at least, is much more enjoyable when I know I deserve it. And yesterday, I earned my meat and potatoes.

At 7am, the alarm clock went off, the soothing voice of NPR nudging me out of slumber. Almost automatically, I got up, made coffee and stumbled back to bed until the smell of French Roast and the guilty feeling that I was supposed to be training for a marathon forced me to face reality. The gym was deserted -- translation: no people watching to distract me from the miles ahead of me. I started out at 10 minute miles, quickly working my way up to 9 minute miles with very little trouble. After 20 minutes and a little over 2 miles, I picked up the pace to "race pace" or 8:30 minute miles (that's the nice thing about the marathon: race pace is nice and slow). Three times one mile at 8:30, with 3-4 minutes at 9-9:30 in between for recovery. By the time I had cooled down, I had put in seven miles - and barely even noticed it.

She said: Time to get serious

2005-12-27T16:53:00.000-05:00

On Friday, as hoped, I took a yoga class at Bikram Yoga NYC on West 72nd Street. While I was loving the warmer climate outside of yoga, the humidity made the sweaty room all the hotter. Still, I survived and followed class with a trip to Barneys for a spiffy new coat from Theory (As my dad says, I'm a real Conde Nast girl now - well, maybe). Then, dinner at Telepan - where to start? Let's just say, one of my favorite dining experiences ever - up there with Michel Rostang and Guy Savoy in Paris, Gotham, Artisanal and Wallse in New York... out of this world, but down-to-earth at the same time.

On Saturday, I logged in an 8-miler in Central Park. The weather was just about perfect (okay, maybe a little warmer would have been nice) and I felt strong the entire time (except for about 2 miles in when I suddenly, and urgently, needed to go to the bathroom). The rest of the day was a blur of holiday revelry, topped off with the traditional Campbell reading of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas. My dad likes to quiz us on obscure details: What day of the week was the first reading of 'Twas? Wednesday, of course. What is Clement Moore's middle initial? C. of course! What year was 'Twas first published? That's a tricky one - written in 1822, but published in 1879, I believe, but I could be forgetting already.

Sunday, I rested and indulged in Christmas breakfast of eggs, bacon and croissants, then present opening followed by Christmas cookies and, a few hours later, wine and cheese. Too tired and full of cheese to make or eat dinner, we opted for apple pie and ice cream and an early bed time. Monday, morning, though, I was up and at 'em - on the treadmill for 6 miles or so before heading back into the city.

Today is Tuesday, my first day back at work, which can make anyone more than a little cranky. But I eased in with a cup of coffee and some fruit, resolved to quit the pre-holiday habit of muffin-eating in the morning. On to job number two now and then, hopefully, yoga at 7:45. Praying Paola or Raphael will go easy on me.

Going forward, it's time to get serious. Over the weekend, I looked at some running books and training schedules with my mom and I definitely need to be putting in some longer runs. So far, the longest has been 9, but by the end of January, I need to be thinking more along the lines of 12 or even 14. Time to sit down and make a battle plan - April is approaching.

She said: Back in the saddle

2005-12-23T15:11:00.000-05:00

On Friday, I headed down to yoga for my second workout of the week: Ugh. But with yoga, unlike capoeira, I always feel better afterward. Spirits lifted, I pulled on my jeans, which seem to be fitting a little looser these days, slipped on my heels, and strolled over to Ama for some well-deserved Italian food. I don't think I've eaten with so much gusto in a long time. Then on Saturday and Sunday, I put in two 6 milers on the treadmill. I've found that people watching helps the time go by, so I try to snag a machine in a prime location overlooking the lower floor of the gym. Still, it wasn't easy.

This week, Monday and Tuesday were rest days. I had a new roommate move in, jobs one and two, AND the transit strike to deal with. Wednesday, though, I was back at the gym, 7 miles - count 'em - one, two, three, four, five, six, seven - I did, and they went by painstakingly slowly. Then I treked around town, picking up keys from my sister, doing some holiday shopping and cursing the strike. Not that I don't have sympathy - it was just damn inconvenient. On Thursday, I walked to and from work and then an additional couple miles to and from yoga. Paola was on me like white on bread: "Pull those quads up, push your chest up, good, now chin up, palms tight, only 30 more seconds (which, if you've never taken Bikram yoga is an eternity)." Today, Friday. Hopefully, I'll be heading over to the gym or to yoga before a celebratory dinner at Telepan - as in, celebration for making it through the holiday shopping season. Although, technically, I do still have one more present to buy and several gifts to wrap - minor details. Hoping to put in a long run tomorrow or the following day - Christmas calories be damned: I plan to burn them all off and then some. Wish me luck - and happy holidays.

He said: Tit for Tat (Long run for baked ziti)

2005-12-19T13:06:00.000-05:00

This was a great running week for me. I did my longest run ever and felt great doing it. I have been running for a few months and I feel like I am starting to make some progress. I have been running alone lately and the solitude has really made me face the question of whether I want to do this or not. And so far I would respond with a big YES. I am really enjoying myself.

I ran a total of 21.5 miles for the week with some weight training and a heated yoga class. I did a 9.5 mile run on Saturday afternoon in Central Park. A combination of the large loop and two bridal path loops. It was the first semi warm day over the last couple of weeks in New York and it motivated me to push hard and do my longest run so far. I kept a steady fast pace and I was so proud that I finished. I celebrated with a big plate of baked ziti. Possibly the best way to celebrate a big run.

She said: I've been running on the treadmill...

2005-12-15T16:47:00.000-05:00

All the live long day. Or at least that's what it felt like last week: Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, each time a longer run. In all just 17 miles, but then I hit the "sweaty room" (feeling hot, hot, hot) on Saturday for an hour and a half of Bikram yoga.

The winter slump seems to be hitting hard and I'm finding it harder and harder to muster the energy to leave my apartment. This week was especially brutal, with long nights on Tuesday and Wednesday (teaching until 9:30 or so). Feeling a bit under the weather, emotionally and physically, I decided to give the aching muscles and weary mind a break. Yoga on Wednesday, but as for the other days, complete R&R.

Here's hoping next week is more productive. Until then, there's always the weekend - Friday, Saturday, Sunday - to log in the miles. Oh what was I thinking training for a marathon in the winter?

He said: Three cheers for Andrew

2005-12-15T16:43:00.000-05:00

Monday - Rest, much needed rest.
Tuesday - 5 mile treadmill run, light weight lifting.
Wednesday - Rest.
Thursday - It is cold, 24 degrees, at 7pm. I sit in my apartment and think it over. Do I really want to do this? After I make my uncertain decision I try to psyche myself up by celebrating with a cheer after every layer of clothing I place on my body. Two pairs of tights (two cheers), long sleeved running top (cheer), a windbreaker (cheer), socks (cheer), sneakers (cheer) and a light weight running cap (cheer). I do not have ear coverings or gloves. I am off onto the Central Park 6 mile loop. Both my hands and feet start to warm up after about 1.5 miles. I finish, after what seems like a very long run, too tired and cold too cheer.
Friday - Rest.
Saturday - 7 miles on treadmill. Light weight lifting.
Sunday - 3 miles on treadmill.
21 miles total.

She said: One step, two step

2005-12-07T18:06:00.000-05:00

Last week, I started off with two great runs - back to back 6-milers before work. Then, I surprised myself by getting up early again and treking to the gym. On the weekend, I didn't fare quite as well. It was cold - damn cold - and I couldn't motivate to go outside. I kept planning to go to the gym to run on the treadmill, but somehow, inertia got the best of me. Heat is what I needed. So, on Saturday, I biked for an hour and lifted weights. And on Sunday morning, I headed down to SoHo for another session of hot yoga. Needless to say, it was hot. And I have inherited my mother's sweat glands (thanks mom!).

So, this week, another cold one, with forecasts of more cold and even some snow, I decided to suck it up and hit the treadmill. For the past two days, I've dragged my poor body to the gym, shivering and sleepy, and hopped on that dreadful invention. To my surprise, it wasn't so bad. I started off slowly - say 11 minute miles, with an incline of 1.5. I eased my way into a faster pace, gradually ending up at a 8:30 clip. Not so bad. In fact, the faster I ran, the more into the running I got, throwing in a few intervals, feeling my breathing fall into a steady rhythm. All in about 11 miles and - what's more - my legs are thanking me: much easier on the muscles and joints than pavement and concrete. Still: not the same as Central Park or the West Side Highway.

He said: Record week

2005-12-07T18:03:00.000-05:00

Monday: Off the plane, onto the train, into the subway, back in New York. I have about 1 hour of light left in the day. I get dressed fast and head for the bridal path. The bridal path has a nice feel. Different shades of orange from the fallen leaves cover the path. It is very beautiful. A small chill and a great run. 4 miles.

Tuesday: 1/2 hour on the bike and some weight lifting at the gym.

Wednesday: Rest by eating at Asia de Cuba. A great night.

Thursday: 6 mile run on the central park loop. A chilly and tough run. The road runners club was out in force running against traffic and I was running with traffic. On the weekend it does not matter what direction I run. But after work at around 7pm in the dark the road runners club runs in big groups. They come charging at you and I had a couple of near collisions with guys sprinting for positions within their running group. Next time I go the other way.

Friday: Rest by eating at JoJo's. Another great night.

Saturday: 3.5 mile run on treadmill and some weight lifting.

Sunday: 7 mile run on the treadmill. This was really hard. A total of 20.5 miles for the week. My first 20 mile week! The rest days this week helped with the motivation. Burn off the great food and wine.

She said: On the one

2005-11-30T07:22:00.000-05:00

Florida was just hot enough. Cotton ball clouds and azur skies. A swimming pool looking out on the water. My brother and his fiance goofing on the dock. My mom temporarily in love with a mangy cat named Matilda. My sister and her fiance (tell me about it) in quiet repose, reading side by side. My dad riding off on a little red scooter.

The running was a relief. My legs felt tireless as we put in, back to back, 7 miles and 8 miles. The last day, I shuffled around the housing development for a solitary 3 mile run, taking in the setting sun, nestled among purple and orange layers.

On the other hand, there was something infinitely comforting about returning home. The bustle and grind of JFK and Penn Station. And the following day, the packed, jostling subway. On the one train, heading down to Chelsea, ordering steamed dumplings from Spice. Waking up to gray skies and lacing up my running shoes. Heading down the West Side Highway one more time. Knowing every curve, every bump, the slight rise and fall of the road.

He said: It's hot out there

2005-11-30T07:04:00.000-05:00

I spent the Thanksgiving holiday with the Campbell family in Vero Beach, Florida. Besides the great company, I had great weather. Day one was all turkey, stuffing, potatoes and pie. Day two was time to burn off the calories from the previous day. We went on a 7 mile run at around 9am. The sky was clear, no humidity and the sun was starting to blaze. Probably around 80 degrees. I had been sick for over a week in New York and I was seriously doubting my running legs. Geraldine set the pace and we were off. We ran through a beautiful Florida development adjacent to a golf course. The southern foliage was a great change from the gray fall Central Park running course. After a loop throughout the homes we started on a running path on A1A. As the length of the run increased so did the heat. It felt great. Sweat beating down my face almost blinding me. Bike teams were cruising by waving to us and helping keep my focus on the run as I jumped over little lizards who were energized by the morning heat. I miss summer training. 2 runs in 2 days back to back - total 15 miles. Awesome.

She said: It's getting hot in here

2005-11-19T10:25:00.000-05:00

This week hasn't been a great one so far in terms on running. On Monday, I did get up early and go for a run, but since then, I haven't run more than the width of the crosswalk. I blame this on the turn in weather on Wednesday (all dreary wetness, followed by a crisp chill). But, I haven't been slacking these past couple days. On Wednesday, for example, I rode the stationary bike for an hour and a half. The real challenge, however, came on Thursday: Bikram (or hot) yoga.

Sweat and bend and twist and pull and don't forget, Chin up Campbell. A tall gangly gay man named Raphael pushes me to contort my body in ways they don't really want to go.

Two days later, my hips are still a bit sore. But, today there's no getting around it: back to running. I've got to put in a run today and tomorrow - and start increasing my miles. Good thing my trip to Florida is just around the corner. Motivating, I hope, will not be so hard in the sunshine state.

She said: Running on empty

2005-11-12T15:57:00.000-05:00

On Thursday night, Andrew and I went to the James Beard house. For those of you who don't know, the James Beard house invites chefs from around the world to come to New York and prepare dinner for around 100 people. Dinners are open to the public, but the majority of diners (by far) are regulars - James Beard house members. We were party-crashers of sorts - non-members and the youngest in the room by decades. I had received the invitation through work (one of the perks of being in the magazine business is a plethora of free cocktail parties and dinners) and, not knowing anything about it, RSVP-ed for myself and a guest (Andrew). The crowd was sophisticated and very black and white - meaning, black clothes, white hair. At our table, were Estelle and Phil, a polished couple in their late sixties with five children and two dogs, and Jack, a true veteran (he had dined there every night except Wednesday) with lazy eyes that took a good ten seconds to focus. We chatted about "the Beard," the Brooklyn Dodgers and youth. We ate five courses (not including dessert) and put back several glasses of wine (a different wine with each course and cognac with dessert).

So, you can imagine, getting up for a run on Friday morning was not easy. I was up at 6:30, writing in the blog, drinking coffee and waiting for day to warm up a bit before I braved the cold. And it was a chilly one. Perhaps not by normal standards, but in comparison to the balmy weather we've been lucky enough to enjoy, it was quite a shock to the system. Still, I logged in my 6 miles - and walked to work. Not bad, not bad at all.

She said: What's it worth

2005-11-11T07:25:00.000-05:00

Nearly every day since I started my new job, I've walked to and from work. Not a particularly pleasant trek (up 7th avenue to Times Square), I nonetheless enjoy starting my day with a breath or two of fresh - er, relatively that is - air. What's more, most weekends, Andrew and I spend walking around the city. Up to Sarabeth's or Good Enough to Eat for breakfast or over to Cafe Lalo for some divine tiramisu after dinner. Down to Niketown to check out the new kicks or over to Barneys to peruse the beautiful Manolos.

So, my question is, what's it all worth? I mean, I know from a caloric stand point, walking is nearly as good as running. Rough rule: 1 mile traveled by foot - running or walking - burns about 100 calories. But, in terms of my workout schedule, do the extra 15 miles (2 miles x 5 days + 5 on weekends) count for anything other than an extra chocolate chip cookie or two I'm allowed to eat without feeling guilty?

She said: Run down

2005-11-11T07:13:00.000-05:00

Tuesday marked my sixth consecutive training day. I ran 6 miles on Thursday, 5 on Friday, 7 on Saturday and another 6 on Monday (24 miles in 5 days - not bad at all). On Sunday, I went to my first Bikram yoga class (that's hot yoga for those of you not in the know) - and for those of you thinking that yoga is like stretching... think again. On Tuesday, I biked at the gym and lifted weights.

It may come as no surprise that on Tuesday night, I took a few punches. While teaching my GMAT class, my throat started to itch and by the time I got home, it had turned into a dry, dull ache. I slept poorly, my throat on fire, my nose alternately stuffy and runny, and woke up feeling like a train wreck. Needless to say, I took off on Wednesday and Thursday - and I'm hoping I'll be back on my feet today.

Still, as winter approaches - even if it is still incredibly pleasant out - it seems inevitable that we'll all get sick. Any tips out there for beating the common cold? I'm a fan of lots of liquids and plenty of rest, perhaps not the most sophisticated solution, but somewhat tried and true.

He said: Stress factor

2005-11-05T13:18:00.000-05:00

Training in times of stress. This seems to be my major obstacle. I have a tendency to want to sit down and eat a box of cookies when the stress factor rises. Since our great 8 mile run on Oct 23 I have only run 9 miles. I have trained capoeira 5 times and gone to a bikram yoga class with my buddy Jay. I trained very hard and regained a certain amount of focus on my capoeira training, but I have not added the mileage like Geraldine has over the past 2 weeks. I have been stressed over several things including my dedication to my martial art training (that's for another blog), my career (ughh I manage 20 artists all with intense personalities) and the sudden passing of my grandmother Vermeulen. So I sat with Geraldine and talked about my workout schedule and how to manage both martial arts training and running. We came up with a split week where I train capoeira 3 times a week and run 3 times a week keeping my mileage between 14 and 20 miles. I am starting this schedule this week. Wish me luck.

She said: The morning drive

2005-11-05T10:44:00.000-05:00

Hectic days with limited sunlight hours can make motivating for that post-work run very difficult. When all you want to do is go home, change into your pajamas, have a glass of wine and watch some silly sitcom, who has the energy to go to the gym or pile on layers of clothing (and a headlamp) for that evening jaunt? Well, sometimes I do, but after all, I'm not superwoman.

So, taking advantage of an earlier sunrise, clement weather and the fact that I don't have to get to work until 9:30 or 10:00, I've been trying out the morning run. Three days this week, I set my alarm clock for 7:15, woke up, put some coffee on and went for a run (5-6 miles). Back by 9:00, I had time to shower, eat a quick breakfast and even walk to work. Nothing beats the feeling that you've already done your workout for the day and if you want, you can indulge in all those things I mentioned above (PJs, wine, bad tv).

On the other hand, I really hate waking up during a run. Despite caffeine, I find that half an hour really isn't enough time for my body (and my brain to wake up). So, I'll be on the West Side highway chugging along in a sort of trance when all of a sudden my brain registers, "Hey, you're running!" (As in WTF are you doing running at this hour?)

Still, given the demands of my marathon schedule, my late nights at work, and the scrawny young things at work, it looks like I'll be logging in more than a couple morning miles. Perhaps it will get better? All I know is, it's Saturday and my body was up and at 'em at 7:30 a.m. Definitely another unwanted side-effect.

She said: Work matters

2005-10-30T09:07:00.000-05:00

There's no way of getting around it. Your first week at a new job trumps marathon training. On Monday, Andrew's birthday, I pulled myself out of bed at 6:30 AM (knowing that I would go straight from work to Andrew's house to cook him and his mom dinner). The sun wasn't due to rise for another 45 minutes and my brain wasn't scheduled to wake up for at least another hour. But, I went through the motions: coffee in the filter, socks on feet, shoes over socks, hat on head, and so on. I made my way out to the West Side Highway, putting in a respectable 4-miler before heading to work for my first day.

Monday was busy busy busy, full of interesting characters, funny stories and work, work, work. The hours flew by and before I knew it, I was on my way uptown. Tuesday through Friday passed in a similar blur and the only exercise I got was walking to and from work - probably about 2 miles round trip. But, I remind myself even now as the guilt of four consecutive days without exercise fills my head, there's only one first week at a new job.

Friday night, I treated my body right: I walked home from work, got some sushi and miso soup, read a chapter or two in Norwegian Wood, and went to bed early. On Saturday, I woke up early, put the laundry on, and tried to psyche myself up to go running. Not so easy after four days of loafing. At 10:00, I hit the road, and - surprisingly - my legs and lungs felt great. It was a bit of a gray and windy morning, but I warmed up soon enough, running farther than I had ever run (well not ever, but in the past year), down almost to the Southern tip of Manhattan and then back up, past my house to Whole Foods (where I picked up a 1.5 liter bottle of water and a corn muffin). I also ran fast, fast enough that only those men with the skinny, toned runner's legs passed me. Otherwise, I was Queen of the West Side Highway.

So far, then, my total miles: 4 miles on Monday, 9 miles on Saturday, and today I should put in another 5 or 6 miles. Not SO bad for the first week of work.

She said: Rave run

2005-10-23T15:53:00.000-04:00

Today, Andrew and I went on our first 8-miler together. It was chilly outside and I had to curb Andrew's attempt to warm up by speeding up, but soon we both fell into stride at a nice, even pace. As we were running, I eavesdropped on passing marathoners who were all gittery about the approaching race. I tried not to give in to my competitive urge to keep up with other runners, reminding myself that this was one of our first long runs on the long road to the marathon.

Then a funny thing happened. We passed by an old man with an awkward running style, arms akimbo, skinny legs shuffling along. Just seconds later, he zipped past us. No problem, keep to your own pace, I told myself. The gap closed and we passed by him again. And again, within seconds, he had zoomed forward. I looked at Andrew to see if he thought this was as strange as I did, but he was focused on the road ahead. Once more, I found myself running up alongside the old man. This time, I felt him pick up the pace and I ran a few steps beside him, listening to his breating get heavier and heavier. He relented and I passed, only to hear him chugging up from behind and once more, regaining the front position. I laughed and turned to see Andrew smiling as well. I threw up my arms and kept going. We didn't get a chance to pass by this strange old timer again; about a minute later, he turned around and left us to our run.

We made our way up the big hill on the north side of the park, turning on to the Bridal Path to extend our usual 6-mile loop. The change in terrain (packed dirt) revived us and we both felt fresh and invigorated. We watched the NYU cross-country team, their long skinny legs turning over rapidly, their cheeks flushed and rosy. We passed by couples, all bundled up and out to enjoy the day. We skirted stones and baby carriages, muddy patches and dogs.

At the end of the run, we were elated, not exhausted, both feeling as if we could run a couple miles more. We shared a high five and headed home for a hot shower... The perfect run.

Too much of a good thing

2005-10-20T15:14:00.000-04:00

Runner's World and the New York Times have both recently published cautionary articles about the danger of too much water. Check out today's article: Marathoners Warned About Too Much Water.

She said: One step forward, two steps back

2005-10-18T14:38:00.000-04:00

Today marks my fourth consecutive day of running. On Saturday, I ran solo - an unexpected run that left me feeling re-invigorated. On Sunday, Andrew and I hit the road in Ridgewood, feeling that nip of winter in the air. On Monday, my mom and I headed out to the bike path and ran an easy 4.5 miler. And today, I went outside and couldn't resist lacing up my new running shoes.

My stomach cramps seem to have returned. I'm blaming it on allergies, too much wine and fatigue. I'm hoping that a couple good days of rest will put me back on track, but every time I take a step forward, I seem to take two back. I imagine myself in college, running 40-50 miles a week, doing double workouts, speed workouts, long runs... Well, if I did it once, I can do it again. Stay tuned to see how I do...

She said: Inertia

2005-10-15T14:51:00.000-04:00

When you workout almost every day, it's difficult not to become compulsive. You start to feel guilty about every day you take off, wondering if it might be better to go for just a short run? 3 miles, perhaps - or maybe even 5? I mean, really, what's the difference?

This week, I found out that inertia is a powerful force; when you're working out all the time, it's hard to stop, but once you stop, it's very hard to start again... I took the day off on Monday. And then I took the day off on Tuesday. By Wednesday, I was feeling very blase about my planned workout that night. If I did it, great, if not, no harm done, right? Well, I did manage to get in an hour and a half bike ride at the gym, but then I took off on Thursday and Friday.

Luckily, the sun came out today. I felt obligated to make the most of the day, although I was thinking I'd much rather stay in and keep reading The Beach (a novel by Alex Garland). As it turned out, my run was amazing. My legs felt fresh and my mind clear. I ran at a fast clip, passing runners, falling into an easy rhythm and finishing strong. In the end, I felt invigorated and ready to take on the world - or at least to hit the road again tomorrow. Let's hope my lazy streak has come to an end.

She said: The cookie monster strikes back

2005-10-12T14:04:00.000-04:00

When Andrew and I first started dating, I wooed him with my chocolate chip cookies. Hundreds of chocolate chip cookies later - and more than a few pounds - we decided to give the cookies a rest. But then yesterday, when (if you remember) I was trying to motivate to go for a run or at least go to the gym, I got the urge to bake cookies. Yummy cookies. So, now my cupboard is full of delicious, buttery, chocolate-y cookies and I'm left trying to resist temptation (yeah, right). My solution, I think, will be to give them away. Food left in the kitchen at the Vault, my soon-to-be-former employer, has a lifespan of about 3 minutes.

To any runners out there (or friends and family, because I know right now, you are the only ones reading this), how do you deal with the darkening days, the hibernation impulse, and the craving for cookies?

She said: Hibernation mode

2005-10-11T10:11:00.000-04:00

I remember clearly coming home from Vero Beach, Florida about a month ago and thinking, "It's fall. When did that happen?" Just as suddenly, it seems winter has snuck up on us. Now, I know technically winter doesn't start until sometime in December, but this past Sunday, following the deluge on Saturday (during which, I braved the elements to get a pint of ice cream and a homeless man hiding out from the rain asked if he could come home with me and watch some T.V.), the air was distinctly cooler. Sweatshirts came out, as did my over-sized Northface, and I found myself wanting a scarf. Then yesterday, hibernation mode hit both me and Andrew full-on. He slept through his alarm and ended up taking a sick day - highly unusual. I went to work, but found myself craving carbohydrates - Mmm, bagels. A run was definitely not on the program. I'm hoping today I can pull myself out of this winter slumber. Stay tuned to find out how successful I am...

His Training Log

2005-10-10T16:33:00.000-04:00

Sunday, Oct 2, 2005: I spent the day walking around the city with Geraldine. 4 miles.

Monday, Oct 3, 2005: Capoeira class. Trained very well.

Tuesday, Oct 4, 2005: Rest. Watched the Yankees.

Wednesday, Oct 5, 2005: Capoeira class. Trained well for 1 hour and then died. No energy. I think my water intake was off.

Thursday, Oct 6, 2005: Tough day. Thursdays are always hard. After work, I went home and walked down the block to the bridal path. My shoulders and traps were sore from capoeira and I was tired from the week. After a mile or so, I relaxed and watched everyone run past me. At the end I felt like I could keep going, but listened to my brain and went home. 4 miles.

Friday, Oct 7, 2005: Rest. Watched the Yankees.

Saturday, Oct 8, 2005: Pouring rain. I ran the 6 mile loop at Central park. Running in the rain was great. It had a way of keeping my mind off of the fact that I was exercising. The park on a Saturday is usually packed with people. Today the park was quiet with few runners. The existing runners were in great shape and moving fast, probably preparing for the upcoming New York Marathon. Geraldine and I plan to watch the marathon this year.

TOTAL: Running: 10 miles; Walking: 4 miles; Capoeira: 2 times. Tough week.

Her Training Log

2005-10-10T09:59:00.000-04:00

Week of Oct. 3, 2005

Monday: 6-miler on the West Side Highway. What I was thinking: "Do I really have to go back to work today?"

Tuesday: 30 minutes on the stationary bike followed by 60 minute massage with Mark. What I was thinking: "Ouch. This has got to be good for me."

Wednesday: 95 minutes on the stationary bike, while watching new WB show, Related. What I was thinking: "I can't wait to get home and go to bed."

Thursday: Same old 6-mile loop on the West Side Highway. What I was thinking: "One, two, three, four... two thousand and seven."

Friday: Rest day.

Saturday: 6-mile run in the rain. The only people on the road are hard core runners (am I one of these? I'm not sure I quite fit the bill). When I leave my house, it's slightly drizzly, but more humid than anything else. When I hit the West Side Highway, it starts to pour and there are points on the road where the puddles are 3 or 4 inches deep. I stomp through them and smile at the passing runners. What I was thinking: "Now, this is fun!"

Sunday: 6-mile Central Park Loop. What I was thinking: "It's over already?" Very reluctant to go for a run, but a second cup of coffee and the desire to eat a very big brunch inspired me to hit the road. Andrew and I chatted about the book he is reading (Identity, by Kundera) and the bit of fluff I am reading (Bergdorf Blondes, by Sykes). In fact, I am currently making my way through several more serious novels, but on Sat. morning (after searching to no avail for a new pair of running shoes), I was in desperate need of a no-brainer for the rainy weekend. Thus, Bergdorf Blondes, a surprisingly funny look at the life of an UES socialite. Anyway, back to the run... Andrew and I had so much fun talking that at one point, he stopped running and I looked back and said, "Are you tired?" And he said, "No, we're home."

TOTAL: 24 miles running, 35 miles biking.

She said: Forget inspiration, let's talk about motivation

2005-10-06T10:19:00.000-04:00

This past weekend, Andrew and I spent an amazing couple days hanging out at his new apartment on the UWS. We were celebrating my new job (Asst. Editor at Conde Nast Traveler) and his new kitchen table (Crate & Barrel). So, on Friday night, after a quick workout at the gym, I came over for a homemade meal (well, almost - thanks Jay!) and a bottle of red wine. On Saturday, we were out and about all day - a run in Central Park in the morning, bruch at Sarabeth's, shopping in the afternoon, and then movies (Serenity) and chocolate cake at Cafe Lalo at night. On Sunday, I woke up before Andrew and headed over to this little French bakery on 74th and Broadway to pick up lattes and biscotti. I yanked Andrew out of bed and we were off shopping again - first to Niketown, where I found a new pair of sneakers, but the staff was so inept I couldn't bear to buy them, then to Pink, where I bought Andrew a gorgeous new shirt (I never thought I'd be one to speak of shirts as gorgeous, but these shirts reminded me of the scene in the Great Gatsby when Gatsby shows Daisy all his beautiful shirts), Brooks Brothers, where Andrew bought a very practical blue collar shirt and navy V-neck sweater, and finally Whole Foods, where we stocked up on food for the night. Our friends Jay and Beril came over for dinner, a Mexican feast: steak fajitas, rice and beans, guacamole, chips and salsa. All in, we went through three bottles of white wine and ended up making a repeat visit to Cafe Lalo.

So, what does all this have to do with running? My point exactly. After a great weekend like that - and a hangover on Monday - finding the motivation to run was a near impossible feat. Somehow I managed to squeeze in a run on Monday (my 13-hour day) and make it to the gym on Tuesday. Thankfully, an hour-long massage (one of the painful variety) revived my muscles (though I felt flu-ish all day yesterday) and on Wednesday, I put in a long, hard bike ride at the gym.

He said: Week in review

2005-10-06T10:04:00.000-04:00

Sunday, Sept 25, 2005: 4-mile bridal path loop in Central Park. I enter at W. 69th and run north on the path that is grey, clayish, rocky, sandy, uneven. After 1 mile, I reach the outer circle of the reservoir. 2 miles around and then back home. The run is easy on the joints but grueling on the muscles. I truly enjoy the run and feel great. My pace is a little faster then usual.

Monday, Sept 26, 2005: It's a choice between capoeira training or the Bob Dylan documentary by Martin Scorsese. Dylan wins and he is awesome.

Tuesday, Sept 26, 2005: The 6-mile paved loop at Central Park. All day long, I think about doing this run. The weather is perfect – 70 degrees, no humidity. I run south from Sheep’s Meadow. By the time I hit the east side of the park, I am feeling great and I pick up the pace. I hit the hills on the north part of the park with some speed and I end my run strong. My best run yet.

Wednesday, Sept 27, 2005: I train capoeira. I am dead. My legs do not want to move but somehow I finish the class.

Thursday, Sept 28, 2005: Rest day.

Friday, Sept 29, 2005: Rest day.

Saturday, Oct 1, 2005: Geraldine and I run the 6-mile loop in Central Park. I feel strong from the two days of rest. The day is beautiful. We have a good run.

TOTAL: 16.5 miles. Felt great.

He said: Just do it

2005-10-06T09:57:00.000-04:00

"Inspiration, it means nothing. There is only doing."

Joanna Pousette-Dart said this to one of my fellow painting students when the student's canvas was empty because she was not inspired by anything to paint. I have thought about this lately.

What inspires me to run the marathon? Is it the training? The competition? Brother Patrick (my old track coach) from St. Mary's? Love? The desire to break 5 hours? Walter and Kat completing the Iron Man? The tin foil capes that you get after completing the marathon?

I am going to go with what my painting teacher said. I am not inspired to run the marathon; my goal is just to do. I will run the marathon and what happens, happens... but finishing would be nice.

She said: A nutritionist's disaster

2005-09-29T09:33:00.000-04:00

Breakfast, 9:00 a.m. - Small latte
Snack, 2:00 p.m. - Handful of potato chips
Run, 3:00 p.m. - 5 miles, disastrous
Lunch, 4:15 p.m. - "Mediterranean" salad - romaine lettuce, orzo, carrots, zucchini and sundried tomatoes
Snack, 6:45 p.m. - Small Tasti D-Lite fro-yo
Dinner, 9:00 p.m. - 1 can black beans with 1/2 cup brown rice; 1/2 bottle of wine; 1 tsp. honey

This is what I ate yesterday. Literally. And I am - literally - out of food. I have half an onion and a couple of beers in my fridge, raisins, a can of beans and some brown rice in my cupboard. Definitely time to go grocery shopping.

I'm blaming my run on my mal-nutrition. I didn't feel tired, just cramped and awkward. Lesson learned? Eat better today.

She said: New blues

2005-09-27T17:34:00.000-04:00

So, I haven't gone running these past two days. I tell myself I still have hours left in the day, but in truth, I've got to tutor from 6:30 to 8:30 tonight (job #2) and by the time I finish, it will be dark. If I'm good, I'll go to the gym. But, if I skip the gym, it's well deserved. You see, today, I got a new job. Starting soon - date to be determined - I'll be an assistant editor at Conde Nast Traveler.

Still, even in my moment of glory, I'm worried about my training. While the Vault may not be the most prestigious publisher, my job there allows me the freedom and flexibility to get my runs in - before work, after work, even during work... With my job right around the corner from my apartment, I have enough time to run home, lace up my running shoes, and head out to the West Side Highway. I come back somewhat sweaty and more than a little bit red in the face, but no one seems to mind (I have a desk hidden away in a corner). Will I still be able to get in my runs at Conde Nast? I guess I'll just have to find out. Wish me luck.

She said: Real food

2005-09-27T15:03:00.000-04:00

Jane Runner wakes up in the morning and eats 3" x 3" buckwheat-blueberry pancakes, 2 tablespoons of maple syrup, 2 teaspoons of soft margarine, 2 tablespoons chopped almonds, 1/2 cup diced apples with cinnamon, and 1 cup low-fat soy milk.

Get real. For those of us living in New York, balancing a career (or two, in my case), a social life, and marathon training, a stack of 3-inch buckwheat-blueberry pancakes may never be a reality. I'm no nutrition expert, but please, give me a food plan that I can actually follow (no offense to those who actually do have the time for buckwheat-blueberry pancakes - I'm jealous).

My food routine right now is in serious need of help. I'm no slouch in the kitchen, but cooking for one just doesn't hold much appeal, especially when I'm coming home from work at 10:00 at night. Tired and hungry, I have to confess to making some poor food choices - 3 bowls of cereal one night, a couple of Luna bars another, vegetable soup from the Chinese place down the street, cold baked ziti from three nights ago - I could go on and on.

Hey Runner's World! How about a food routine for us city girls?

She said: The week in review

2005-09-25T15:50:00.000-04:00

Date: Sunday, September 25, 2005
Miles: 23

Today marks the end of my first 20-plus-mile week and I can tell you, my legs are feeling a little worse for the wear. The real culprit, I suspect, is not the miles, but the fact that I decided to go to a 2-hour capoeira class on Wednesday night for the first time in six weeks.

Ouch.

On Thursday, running was out of the question. On Friday, I attempted to run my regular 6-mile route - from my apartment in Chelsea, over to the West Side Highway, down to Stuyvesant High School and back home - but after a measly three miles, my legs still felt like lead and I walked (hobbled) the remainder. On Saturday I took two long, hot baths, hoping to relax my aching muscles. Still, sitting down and walking down stairs were near impossible. I survival-shuffled my way through a 6-miler: From my parents' house in Ridgewood, I ran out to Glen Rock, past the Glen Rock rock, back through town, down Maple and back home.

Today, still in New Jersey, I drove over to the bike path (a runner's haven) and logged in 8 miles. They weren't exactly painful - just tough. Nothing felt right: my stride was off, my legs were stiff, my bones a bit weary, and my allergies acting up. Some days - or some weeks - I guess you just have to suck it up.

He said: That crazy Campbell family

2005-09-22T16:48:00.000-04:00

Since that first day, Geraldine and I have been doing about two runs a week together, usually 5 or 6 miles, but sometimes more if we’re feeling strong. My stride is getting better and my breathing is starting to fall into rhythm with my feet.

After a few months Geraldine popped the question. "Would you want to run a marathon together?" "Sure," I answered without hesitation. Why not. I have watched the NY marathon several times and always thought, What a great accomplishment. I remember as a kid watching my Dad do the 5k race in Long Island and thinking how cool that was for him. Why not set a goal. Why not put my body to a new test. Why not work with Geraldine on a new big experience. Our plan is to run the Jersey Shore marathon in April. Plenty of time to train. Plenty of time to lose some more weight. I was confidant.

Hold on! There has to be something a little difficult about running a marathon. Right?

Well I got my answer about two months ago. July 4th weekend. Geraldine invited me to her family’s house in Ridgewood, N.J. Yes, the family of runners. I did not even want to talk about the marathon or running but I felt it might be unavoidable. We get to the house and meet up with her family. Mother: Erika, a three-time marathon runner, nationally ranked and maybe the most obsessive runner I have ever met. German and proud of it. Sister: Kat, who is almost as obsessive as her mother; she is training for her first Ironman. That is for those crazies who say "you know running a marathon just isn't enough, I should swim 2 miles and ride a bike 120 miles before I even start the marathon." Sister's boyfriend: Walter is obsessed with Kat. He is doing the Ironman as well. The whole weekend he is saying, "I cannot believe I am doing this!" Father: No marathons or Ironman competitions for Joe. He would rather spend his time fixing up his family’s bike collection (garage of like 15 top bicycles) or being the big fan of the women runners in his wonderful family.

Lucky for me the whole family is talking about the upcoming Ironman competition and I am totally not the focus. Walter and Kat are the focus. Constant discussion of their possible times in the upcoming competition. I wander off to the book shelf and find 50 running books. Yes: they run and read about running. I pick, “First time marathon runners’ stories." Quick read and scary. It is full of horror stories. People completely unprepared having terrible marathon experiences. I read about 6 runners profiles and I close the book with a sense of doom. As I look up from my reading, I see the Campbell's talking about the type of "Gu" Walter should be eating during his upcoming competition and I see Geraldine with a big smile. I've got a lot of work ahead of me.

He said: Hooked on running

2005-09-22T16:38:00.000-04:00

I ran for years as a kid all through junior high and high school on the track team. I really enjoyed the sport and I was decent in competition. After junior year, I quit running and spent my final two years of high school consumed with studying and following the Grateful Dead. At college I did absolutely no sports activities except for some local neighborhood handball games. I fit right in with the other art majors, content to drink beers with my edgy co-students and talk about David Hammons.

After college I spent 8 years, 12 hours a day creating art on a computer. And my body gained weight. I needed a life change and I found capoeira. I have spent the last 5 years training capoeira, consistently losing the computer weight and getting back into very good shape.

Then I met Geraldine. She loves running, ran throughout school (both HS and College) and comes from a family of runners. Did I mention that I ran in High school?

Geraldine and I went on some workout dates - lifting weights, practicing martial arts and riding the stationary bikes. But we never ran together. I would spend nights over her apartment and notice that Geraldine would wake up earlier then me, get on her sneakers and go for solo runs. She would come back refreshed and full of energy that was so uplifting that it would shake me out of bed. Geraldine would tell me how the solitude and action of running was her big stress release.

I guess she fell in love with me because one day she asked me to go on a run. She was inviting me into her fortress of solitude and I felt honored. Off we went one morning - through Chelsea, to the West Side Highway running path and downtown toward Battery Park City for a 5 mile run. In addition to the physical stress, I felt this run might also be a relationship test of sorts. I was being invited into Geraldine's world so I wanted to do a good job. We jogged next to each other or Geraldine took the lead. After it was over we looked at each other and she gave me a big smile. "I like running with you." That's what she said and I felt the same about running with Geraldine. I was hooked.

She said: Feeling like a runner

2005-09-21T12:49:00.000-04:00

After my last marathon, I took a long break from running. I got involved in capoeira, a Brazilian martial art/dance that was so different from anything I had done before that I became a little bit obsessed. Two years later, I haven't done much in the way of running. Sure, I've done the River to Sea (a 92-mile relay race across New Jersey) a couple of times, but almost always hungover, sleep-deprived and woefully unprepared.

The decision to train for another marathon took me somewhat by surprise. Why now? The reason, I've figured out, is that I've re-discovered my love of running - the solitary, repetitive, meditation; the exhilaration after a hard run; the feel of the sun on my back. It took my body a long while to get used to the idea of running again, but just a couple days ago, during my first 8-miler on the road to the marathon, everything seemed to click and I felt like a runner again.

She said: The agony (without the ecstasy)

2005-09-21T12:43:00.000-04:00

When I returned from Spain (where I had spent an indulgent interlude between jobs), I felt the months of gluttony sitting like a lump of oatmeal in my stomach (and my thighs). What better way to jump-start my return to the United States - and fitness - than training for a marathon? I came home in the summer - June, July? - and figured four months ought to do it. Why not? I was young and athletic and a former cross-country runner. I picked the Marine Corps Marathon because of its proximity and timeliness and because who wouldn't want to run around our nation's capital and hear young Marines shout "Hoo-ah!"?

I am always astonished at how easy it is to go from fitness queen to couch potato slug and how difficult it is to reverse the process. Needless to say, my first runs were painful. And truth be told, they didn't get that much easier. That summer - the summer of 2002 - I remember as hotter and stickier than usual. In order to beat the heat, I dragged myself out of bed on Saturday mornings (foregoing Friday night partying) and logged in my long runs - 8 miles, 10 miles, 12 miles... eventually peaking at 20 miles. For some reason, it is generally considered to be enough to run 20 miles during marathon training. Your adrenaline - so they tell me - gets you through the last six. Ha! But more on that later...

My 20 mile run, strangely enough, was one of the best runs I can remember. It seemed effortless and yet, my watch told me I was clocking in just over 8 minute miles. I noticed a dull aching pain in my shin - had it been there before? I wasn't sure - but otherwise I felt my mind free and clear, not thinking about finding a job, doing my laundry, or even the tedium of running for nearly three hours.

When I stopped running, however, I knew I was in trouble. With no insurance to speak of, I found myself in a bit of a quandary. It was likely, said the Orthopedic surgeon, that I had a stress fracture. If I wanted to know for sure, I would have to get a (costly) bone scan. For the next three weeks - I fretted and stressed and tossed and turned. I tried to run, but I could barely walk without wincing in pain. I went back to the surgeon. My question was this: "If I ran on a stress fracture, what was the probability that I would break the bone?" At this my doctor laughed. Well, he said, You're young. The chances are very low. But if it breaks, it will be very painful.

When my family and I headed down to D.C. the weekend of the marathon (my sister was running too), I was still undecided. To run or not to run? On the one hand, running seemed like a completely idiotic thing to do - and I'm not really prone to idiocy. Impulsiveness, yes. Idiocy, no. On the other hand, I had trained for three months to run a marathon with my sister and what was the worst that could happen? I was going to have to lay off my leg anyway, why not go out with a bang?

In the end, I ran the marathon - 4 hours and 52 minutes of sheer agony. Every hour, I popped a couple Advil and hobbled on my way. What should have been a much shorter race (we had planned to run a 4 hour race), suddenly seemed to stretch to eternity. The last six miles especially seemed epic. At every water stop we walked, unable to make it more than a mile without breaking down. At some point, I stopped feeling the pain in my leg and just felt the exhaustion of being unprepared to run for 5 hours straight. At many points, I thought I would cry.

When all was said and done, my bone did not break, but I did have to wear a cast for a good six weeks. I was proud in a strange way that I had accomplished this ridiculous feat - a marathon with a stress fracture - but, I vowed never to do another marathon. Such promises are meant to be broken. Three years later, I'm training for another one. This time, I tell myself, I'll do it smarter, safer and faster.

He said, she said

2005-09-21T09:46:00.000-04:00

My boyfriend and I recently decided to train for a marathon. For our own amusement (and hopefully for yours as well), we also opted to document our progress - a runner's take on "He said, she said." Please feel free to add comments on your own marathon training experience - the ups, the downs, do's and don'ts, and so on.

The race: New Jersey Marathon
The date: April 30, 2006
Time to beat: 4 hours
Pounds to lose: 20 (collectively)
Miles to run: Countless