For some crazy reason still unbeknownst to me, I decided to run a marathon this year. It had always been on my big ‘to do’ list (you know, the one that also includes writing a book and aiding in world peace) and thought since I was an ‘adult’ now, that I better get started on crossing things off.
Believe it or not, I finished the race in a respectable time for my first marathon, and even though I thought I was in hell at mile 21 and gave my parents the finger at mile 23, I am glad I did it. I learned a lot of valuable lessons about myself and the sport of endurance running during my almost 5 month training, and have included a few of my favorites below.
1. Geese are not your friends. Not only do their piles of green feces get in the way of any activity revolving around any sort of body of water, they are mean too. While running one Saturday by the river, I noticed a very large group of geese in my path. In an effort to avoid the swarm of crazy birds, I decided to run through the grass. Bad idea. Just as I was passing the last goose, I felt something poking at my already aching calf muscle. At first I thought it was a cramp; unfortunately I wasn’t so lucky. I turned around to find a goose chasing me while frantically pecking its beak into my leg. Apparently getting anywhere near their other ‘green stuff’ ticks them off even more.
2. Food in the form of a gel tastes as bad as it sounds. Rumor has it in the running world that if you are running more than 6 miles at a time you have to ‘fuel’. When I think of the word fuel, I think of the smelly liquid I put in my car every two weeks that costs me entirely too much money, not something I want to pour down my throat. So, in an effort to find the best tasting ‘fuel’, I decided to shop around. At first glance, I was optimistic about my fuel options. After loading up on a variety of flavors including apple pie, cherries jubilee, chocolate brownie and even margarita, I went home for a taste test. Five minutes into my fuel tasting, I found myself wishing I was drinking gasoline.
3. Pit-bulls are even scarier when they are chasing you. It started out like every other Monday evening run. I was halfway through my ‘80s Rock On’ play list and approaching mile three when I felt something cold and wet brush the side of my thigh. I turned around in horror to find a very male Pitt-bull chasing me down the street. Fortunately, despite the Pitt-bull’s notoriously aggressive reputation, this one was friendly. But I found myself becoming rather annoyed—the dog seemed to think me running down the street was a game I was playing with him. Seriously, doesn’t he know I’m training for a marathon here?! I tried waving down cars for help, but wasn’t successful. People drove by, turned their heads, even slowed down—but no one would acknowledge my wave for help. A police car even drove by and didn’t stop; he just waved back and kept on driving. So much for protecting and serving. I eventually lost him after repeatedly telling him to “go home” and finding him something more interesting to chase—a horse!
4. Lockjaw can happen to YOU. Your legs aren’t the only things that get sore when you run long distances, your facial muscles can give out on you just as easy. Of course, no one bothered to fill me in on this phenomenon. During my twelve miler a few weeks ago, I was ‘fueling’ (for definition please refer to lesson #2) after mile six when all of a sudden I couldn’t open my mouth wider than to breathe. Don’t get me wrong— breathing is definitely more important than fueling any day. But at that point, nothing mattered more than consuming my black cherry flavored Cliff Shot Blocks. Three square shaped gummy-like chews with just the right amount of caffeine and calories to take me straight to mile 12 (a big step up from the gels discussed in lesson #2 might I add). I managed to squeeze them through my paralyzed lips into my mouth realizing chewing wasn’t an option—after that it was all up to digestion. I shot some Gatorade in my mouth and washed those suckers down like a pill.
5. Increased muscle mass is not always pretty and can strike when you least expect it. I was shopping at the mall one
(Photo from 'Rodney_F' via Flickr)
Sunday afternoon and found myself lingering in front of a 30 percent off sign. There they were: the most beautiful pair of boots I had ever seen, and at such a great price! I just had to try them on. They slid on with ease and right then and there I knew it—I was in love. But my love affair quickly ended in my attempt to take them off. I recruited a sales associate to assist me and in the meantime attracted the attention of the crowds of people waiting to pay, becoming the object of their amusement for the next 20 minutes…literally. The girl, who couldn’t have weighed more than 100 pounds, pulled with all her might for a good 10 minutes until we heard a loud rip. My right foot was free, but needless to say the boot had suffered an injury. The lining on the inside was ruined, and to make matters worse my left foot was still trapped in the fire. When it did finally break free, I was sweating, exhausted and quite embarrassed. The sales associate, noticeably worn-out as well, whispered to me, “Maybe you should stick to boots with zippers.” Ouch!
