Meet Lisa

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away lived two lovely young ladies.  One, tall and raven-haired, worked in the castle amidst the rulers of the kingdom.  The other, a spritely little thing, fluttered around much like a jester, trying to make the citizens laugh despite the madness of the world.  Although they did not know each other prior to living in the kingdom, they became fast friends.

And that's pretty much the story of Lisa and I.

I met Lisa the last few weeks of college.  We were introduced by a mutual friend who knew we both needed to find an apartment after graduation.  After realizing we were relatively compatible (i.e. we could both pay our rent and didn't appear to be psychopaths), Lisa and I, along with another girl, signed a lease for an apartment in Brookline, Massachusetts.  (For those of you who know anything about Boston, Brookline can be a land far, far away if you live on the East side of the city, like I do.  The T is no fairy tale, after all.)  We stumbled our way through much our first year of actual adulthood together.  We learned what it was like to pay bills and to have a job.  We bought real furniture and, for the first time, set up a home that did not have Christmas tree lights as part of the decor.  But mostly we drank a lot.

When I moved to New York for graduate school, Lisa and I all but fell out of touch.  I don't think there was a reason for this, exactly.  It just happened.  Then, last June, Lisa was in Boston.  We met up for dinner, drinks and some much overdue catching-up.  I don't remember where we went or what we ate, but I do remember laughing.  A lot.  It was great to see Lisa again.

Amidst our laughter (and cocktails) a crazy idea emerged: we should run the Boston Marathon.  Pretty sure that was the booze talking, because I'm confident neither of us would have suggested it otherwise.  We continued to joke about running Boston that evening and, surprisingly, kept the conversation going over the next few months.  There came a point about late-July when I realized running the Boston Marathon wasn't something Lisa and I were joking about anymore.  It had become an actual goal for us.

I told Lisa I would call her "a total bitch" on my blog for being half of this crazy, crazy plan to run the Boston Marathon.  But I can't do that.  Despite the fact that we live in two totally different cities, Lisa and I are pushing each other to accomplish something really amazing.  I certainly never thought I'd run a marathon and, without Lisa, I'm pretty sure I never would have even applied to run Boston.  Also, Lisa's not a total bitch.  :)

I may or may not be kneeling on a really high barstool.

This is the only time I will be taller than Lisa.

Distance Today: 3.21 miles (with Sole Train youth running group)

Time Today:  33.14 minutes (10.20 splits)

Cumulative Distance Since Blog Started:  13.43 miles

Cumulative Time Since Blog Started:  2 hours, 5 minutes

Let's talk about my hair

From the inside of my apartment, today looks like the perfect day to run.  It's sunny.  There isn't a cloud in the sky.  The leaves are falling off the trees so you know you will get to hear them crunch under your sneakers with each step you take.  It's a classic New England fall day.

What that really means is that it's windy.

I did a Castle Island loop run this afternoon: I ran from my door, followed the Dorchester Bay shore line, went around Castle Island in South Boston and headed back home.  It's my favorite route.  I love running by the ocean.  There's something really soothing about looking out into the bay and seeing nothing but ocean-- no buildings, no concrete.  Just sea.  Also, most of the route is in Southie, so I'm pretty much guaranteed to see some hilarious townie or a ridiculous Jersey Shore-esque dude bro.  So it's entertaining, too.

Back to the wind, though.  I had a lovely tail wind until I got to the war veteran's statue by the fort at Castle Island.  (Said tail wind totally helped lower my split time, which was nice.)  Once I made the turn to start the second half of the loop, the wind was no longer behind me.  Instead, it was blowing directly at me and totally getting sand in my eyes.  No bueno.  Despite the issues, the run was pretty good.  I started off feeling weak and wondering if I would be able to run the ten miles I set out to complete.  By the time I got to the third mile, the doubt was gone and I knew I would have a decent outing.  My splits were about ten seconds off my PR, but my legs felt strong.  It was good to know I could easily complete ten miles after not running that distance for about three weeks.  (Moment of full disclosure: my right knee was sore throughout the run and is not feeling fabulous right now, either.  I'm going to stretch, ice it and hope I will never have to write about it again.)

While the wind had at least a somewhat positive impact on my run, it did absolutely nothing for my hair.  I'm pretty sure I looked like Sideshow Bob meets Sporty Spice by the time I got home.  A significant portion of my hair was no longer in my ponytail.  Instead, it looked like a bunch of crazy (albeit well-highlighted) snakes were trying to escape from my scalp.  I even took a photo:

So I'm exaggerating a bit.  The wind didn't exactly make my hair go all Medusa.  But it still looks kind of insane.  I'm not one of those girls who can rock a cute, sporty headband and a ponytail.  The headbands just fall off my little head.  But clearly, I need something to assist the ponytail when it comes to keeping my hair out of my face when I run.  Because this?  Is not a look I'd like to keep rocking.  Are hats the solution?  Braids?  Ugh.  Do other curly-haired girls have this problem?  Where's the sporty Fashion Police when you need them?

Distance today: 10.22 miles

Time today: 1 hour, 32 minutes (9:02 split)

I'm running the Boston Marathon... and other words I never thought I'd type.

I'm running the 2014 Boston Marathon.

In real life.

Whoa.

I'm pretty sure none of this has hit me yet.  Maybe it has.  I don't know.  I guess I'm unsure how to feel and how to react when someone says, "Congratulations!  You get to spend the next seven months training your ass off so you can run 26.2 miles!"  I know excitement is part of the prescribed response, and I've certainly got that covered.  I found out Wednesday that I had been accepted to join Tenacity, Inc's marathon team.  I was so psyched that I drove home from school screaming and singing/ rapping along to a very embarrassing and disgustingly upbeat playlist.  (My apologies to the residents of Jamaica Plain for having to suffer through my rendition French Montana's "Pop That".  It [probably] won't happen again.)  I've been bragging to everyone who will listen that I am running Boston.  I've exchanged countless high fives, some with people I don't really know.  I can't stop smiling when I think about it.  I mean, it's kind of a big deal.

But there's that other part of me that is absolutely freaking terrified.  I'm running the Boston Marathon.  Have I lost my damn mind?!  I just volunteered to run over twenty-six miles.  For fun.  What if I can't do this?  What if I get injured?  What if, like so much else in my life, I over-think this and psych myself out before I even get to the starting line?  I've run half marathons before, but here's the thing: those are half as long as an actual marathon.  (I know how obvious that is.  Sorry.)  Here are some other ways to think about a marathon:
-It's a six mile warm up and a twenty mile race
-It's about eight and a half 5k races
-It's the same distance as it is from the Empire State Building to Scarsdale, NY
-It's like running from Fenway Park to Beverly on the North Shore
-If David Ortiz's home runs are, on average, 400 feet long, then a marathon is running the same distance as 346 Big Papi homers.  (Ok, this one is not so bad.)
The point is that a marathon is a long way to run.  Like, really, really long.

I'm running the Boston Marathon.

I never really wanted to do this.

Believe it or not, that last part is true.  I don't think I ever wanted to run the Boston Marathon, or any other marathon, for that matter.  I remember being an undergraduate at Boston University and lining Beacon Street on Marathon Monday to watch the race (i.e. drink my face off).  The Boston Marathon seemed like this event that, although it was right in front of me, was so disconnected from my actual reality; it was a backdrop for the general debauchery that was college.  Even after I started running two years ago, I never aspired to run more than a few miles.  Running was something I started doing because it was good for my health.  It was something I kept doing because I sucked at it (I am way too competitive to suck at things).  Running is something that I still do because I now really enjoy it.  It's fun!  But I've always scoffed at my friends and acquaintances who ran long distances.  Why would you do that?  Running 13 miles sounds pretty painful, if you ask me.  Then I ran my first half marathon.  And my second one.  And while I can say I am totally hooked on running, I never actively thought about running a marathon.  It just wasn't something I aspired to do, I guess.

But here I am.

I am running the 2014 Boston Marathon.

I'm scared and I'm nervous and I'm so, so amped.  I'm running the Boston Marathon!  Who does that?!  I can't wait to finally see what Heartbreak Hill is all about.  I can already envision high-fiving all the drunken undergrads on Beacon Street.  I want so badly to call my grandmother after I finish and tell her what I just accomplished.

So, it's happening: I'm running the Boston Marathon.  Sweet!