Remember when?

One year ago today, I was in Cairo, wondering why I couldn't access twitter or my gmail. One year ago tomorrow, the internet and local phone service was shut down. From there, all hell broke loose. A few days after that, I watched the Army be welcomed into the streets of Egypt as a liberating force. Every police vehicle, every police station was burned. Most of you know my story by now: how they canceled the trains, so I had no way of getting back to Cairo; how a kind couple I met at a race took me in for a week; how I was eventually evacuated by the State Department. I was lucky, needless to say. My life was never in danger.

Today, I'm whiny because I might not make my (arbitrary) mileage goal for the month. And also I ran out of dark purple fountain pen ink at work and had to fill my pen with dark green yesterday. And I was moved into a new office at work, meaning now there's about an hour mid-day when I have trouble seeing my computer screen because of the glare from the floor-to-ceiling windows. CAN YOU IMAGINE?

First world problems much?

كلنا خالد سعيد
(Translation: "We are all Khaled Said," a rallying cry of many of the protestors.)

Accountability

Most mornings, I run about 4.5m with Emilie at 6:15. We live two subway stops apart (about a mile or so, but with a big hill in the middle) and so she'll take the train up to me, I'll meet her at the station, we'll head over to Riverside Park, and we'll run. We end at the subway station by her house, where I jump on the train.

I know this sounds convoluted, and it is. It would be easier to meet in the middle, but that would involve us both needing to tackle that hill and me needing to wake up 15 minutes earlier. That's not happening. (Also, the neighborhood between us is a little sketch, and it's dark when we meet.)

Today, I got on the train after my run and stood there, playing Words With Friends like an addict a champ. There was a crazy guy sitting near me, but I wasn't paying any attention. He was really starting to get into it, yelling craziness about how he was going to "pull your skirt down to show you, how could you do this to me, I've done it before you, know, I'll just pull that skirt down, you'll be standing there in your panties, then you'll take him seriously!" This went on for several minutes, complete with skirt pulling down pantomiming.

I very surreptitiously looked around the train - yep, I was the only one wearing a skirt. The crazy guy was talking to me! He was saying all of this in a menacing voice, too.

Eventually he reached out and touched my arm. I jumped, and turned and glared at him, which launched him into a fit of hysterical laughing/yelling. I told him, "Do NOT touch me," to which he replied, "I didn't touch you. God touched you! In your heart. That was god."

Point being: why on earth don't I run the mile home after saying goodbye to Emilie? I can handle a 5-6m run in the morning. Tomorrow and from now on, I'm running home after saying goodbye to her.

MAJOR LIFE ANNOUNCEMENT

You might notice some changes around here from now on.



Last Saturday, like most people who follow distance running, I sat glued to my computer for a few hours in the morning, following the Olympic Trials. Then, later that afternoon, I had a few friends over and we sat glued to the television, watching the race unfold. Later in the evening, and there is a chance I may have had a glass or four of wine and was possibly egged on by my friends, I declared my intention to compete in the 2016 Olympics, running the marathon.

The good news: MarathonGuide has a history of the women's Olympic Trials. Since 1984 when the women's marathon was introduced, the time needed to qualify hasn't changed as much as you might think - it's mostly been between 2:28 and 2:33. (This year saw an exceptionally strong field and perfect conditions, and the winners came in around 2:25.)

The bad news: my current (and sorely outdated) PR of 4:43 has to fall... like, a lot. In fact, I'll pretty much have to run twice as fast.

Anyone have any training tips for me?

Here is my plan so far:

1. Lose weight. Probably at least 30lbs - those pros are small. Therefore, I must finish the ice cream in the freezer so I'm no longer tempted by it (DONE).
2. Train at altitude. No big deal - my neighborhood isn't called Hamilton Heights because I live at sea level, you know (DONE).
3. Scope out the competition. I went with a friend to the Armory this past weekend to watch some high school track at the New Balance Games. (Actually, we went to watch some elite track, but, ahem, we kind of were late, so we saw a lot of high school relays.) So, high school ladies: in 15 years when you've peaked - I'll be ready for you.
4. Run. Like, a lot more. Like, maybe even upwards of 40 miles a week. (I fully expect this to increase as I get better. To, like, maybe 50mpw? 60? Surely no elites would ever run more than that, right??)
5. Get a sponsor. I figure, barring actual sponsorship, I'll just pick a brand and wear a lot of their clothes. Then when I start winning, I can ask for a retroactive sponsorship. Unless Nike finally answers my emails. Can anybody hear me?

The Armory. Picture me out there running, but in shorter shorts and way faster.

Did you know I recently became a vegetarian?

That's right! I don't eat meat any longer! (Ed: well... sort of. Read on.)

I announced this proudly at the end of December only to be met with derision from my little brother. This one:

That's my brother with some of my healthy vegetarian supplies.

He said, "Why would you have to announce that you're a vegetarian? Why can't you just eat less meat and not be a douche about it, like the majority of the world?"

Well, duh. Because I want to be special. Labels, especially ones you can be self-righteous about, make you special.

Now, never mind the fact that the other day at work, I was craving chicken so badly that I seriously would have hurt someone for a wing. I have a (plastic, butter) knife in my desk and if I'd smelled any chicken, I would have used it. I'm sure this meat thing will stick. I mean meatless thing. Yeah. Besides, all the cool kids are experimenting with meatlessness. Will it make me faster, and thinner, and stronger, and magical? Nah. Will I stick with it? Probably. (Ed: definitely not. Shortly after a draft of this post was written, I fell off the wagon and right into Shake Shack. Je ne regrette rien.)

I said goodbye to my meat days in style, though, with a burger for lunch and combination steak and lobster dinner on New Years Eve. (Ed: goodbye, meat days... see you again in 12 days!) Then, that night to celebrate NYE, hopped up on red meat, I took a 90 minute bikram class.

90 minutes of meat sweats. Ugh.

The weirdest thing about this photo is not that it's blurry, but it's that my sister announced, in earnest, "Oh, you're really going to like this one!" after she took it.

On New Year's Day, she and I ran 11 miles in freezing cold weather with 30mph winds wipping at us while snow fell "down" horizontally. Driving home through the snow, she then took this photo:

She was also quite proud of this photo. Now, I'm no Mapplethorpe, but maybe my sister isn't, either. (Ed: is it weird that I think, "insert name of famous photographer here" and the only name the voice in my head can come up with is "Mapplethorpe"?)


(Final annoying editorial aside: after Shake Shack, there was Manhattan's first Steak 'n Shake. Then there was the Burger Joint at the Parker Meridien. It's been a great week back in the arms of my dear friend red meat!)

What does the future hold?

Last Monday, I got a very ominous email in my inbox:

This should be exciting, right? Not ominous!

And yet... I'm about 90% certain that I am NOT going to register for the NYCM this year.

That, after running 9 local qualifying races last year. Just not doing it. I've already invested enough time and money into a race that I'm not excited about. (Which is also why I won't be paying to defer my entry, either. Deferral means that you have to pay this year to hold your spot... and also pay next year.)

It's not simply because entry fees have gone up (which they have - it would cost me $227 to register for the race). It's not just because I actually feel okay with the race I ran last year (and I do). It's just... my heart isn't in it. I've done the race two years in a row now, and it's a great race. But it would be a great race to watch, too. And I could instead do another fall marathon or, what sacrilege! not do a fall marathon.

Speaking of not doing marathons, I also made the sad decision that I will not be running RnR New Orleans. Well, the decision kind of made itself when I realized I was only 8 weeks out from the race and haven't done a training run longer than 11m... yet. I really can't justify the cost of traveling to NOLA to run a half, even if I do want to see some friends who are also going to be there. And then I dropped out of Ragnar Cape Cod, ostensibly to run a marathon in Chattanooga - but I'm guessing that won't happen, either.

No motivation. And that's okay.

I do have a few races coming up, though. I'm doing a trail half in a couple of weeks, and then a 10m race shortly after that. And then... who knows? Maybe an early fall marathon abroad? Or maybe nothing.

You can't trust your Garmin

My friend Renee ran a half marathon last weekend on a track. Yes, you read that right - 68 laps total on a track. Here is her Garmin map from the race:

Let me remind you - she ran this race around a track. The track never changed size. She never veered off the track. She ran decidedly more than 3.09m (10 more miles than that, in fact) and while her time here is correct, her pace isn't.

Can we please drop the whole "but my Garmin said the distance was - " argument now? Finally?

No time to write a real post so read these things instead

Oh yes, they did: the 10 hottest female contenders at the Olympic Trials this weekend. What, no bikini shots of Jenn Shelton? (For the record, my money is still on Tera Moody for this, too.)

While we're at it, my sister (who sent me that lovely link) also sent me another link: race t-shirt etiquette. I agree with almost all of it - I would argue that family members do not  earn the right to wear the shirt.

And more about Ryan Hall and his "desperation for God." Of course, this post would therefore not be complete without a photo of naked Ryan Hall.

Finally, some happy news: Chip Wilson, the CEO of Lululemon, has stepped down. Did you know he's a billionaire? Your $80 yoga pants put him there!