Marathons, Mini's, and Men

On April 7, The PR Girl did something she never thought she would do: THE PR GIRL RAN A MARATHON. Yes, yes, yes, thank you. Congratulations may be sent in the form of J.Crew gift cards.

On May 4, this PR Girl is also doing something she never thought she would do: she will run the Mini-Marathon. Seems a bit anti-climatic, doesn't it? I mean, going from 26.2 miles down to 13.1 in less than a month might be a let down for some. But I am looking forward to the mini just as much...but it's more of a dreading, I-need-to-get-this-over-with feeling. You see, in order to get to my corral, I must walk past Marathon Man's store that just recently opened. What's the big deal, you might ask? Well, this store's concept was developed entirely during our relationship. In fact, I'm the one who spurred him on to open said store. I suggested the color scheme. I helped write and edit the business plan. I offered input in the research, planning, and design of the store. For good grief, I came up with the name of the store. Now, he has gone and trademarked the name I created. There is no bitterness, no anger pent up in me. Just sadness at the injustice of it all and frustration at the painful consequences of a deadened relationship. I truly want the store to do well. I want Marathon Man to succeed and be happy. It just really, really stinks that complete strangers are able to enjoy and rave about what a great place it is, and I won't ever be able to even step foot into a place that I put so much time, energy, and emotion. I know it's silly. It's just a little shop. But it's something that we both cared so much about, and it was what I thought was going to be a new era in my life. I was eagerly anticipating the adventure of the two of us being a part of a downtown family business.

So you may now understand why running in a race in which Marathon Man had signed me up and discovering that I must walk right past his ("our") newly opened store makes me a little anxious. But more than that, I am hoping that it will be yet another step in giving me closure - maybe even the final step of the moving on that I so desperately need. Marathon Man is a good man, but he really did a number on me. So hopefully after May 4, I can say no more to that.

A Newbie's Guide to the Gym Subculture

• Men and women actually go to the gym to workout, not to get a date. In some bizarre way, I find this very encouraging and also realize that for years I have mentally misjudged the single gym-goers of the world. Throughout the sets of my leg presses and bench lunges, I haven't observed any awkward pick-up lines like "Do you squat here often?" or gym-based flirtations. For the most part, individuals keep to themselves. In fact, the gym almost seems like a gathering for anti-social individuals who do their best to not get caught looking at someone else. Now trust me, I do not go to the gym to get attention from the opposite gender. I hide in a corner on a Harbinger yoga mat and plank-away. But let's be real here: I might want to take all of this as a sign that I really need to start upping my reps.
• There's always that toned, good-looking blonde in the tight leggings whose sole purpose for being there is to remind you just why you keep doing all of those planks, crunches, and lunges. 
• The "awkward eye contact" that can sometimes happen in day-to-day life occurs ten-fold at the gym. Even when you think you aren't staring at someone, you probably are. Blast those walled mirrors. 

Feel free to add to this list!

Gu, Blisters, and Ice Baths: Does This Mean I'm Officially a Runner?

Sunday was a hard day. Emotionally, spiritually, and physically. I will save the emotional and spiritual traumas for my journal (isn't it lucky?) and cover just the physical, push-through-the-pain-type of day I had.

After church, I did the longest run of my life...wait for it...a whopping 9 miles. I know, I know...it's no ultra, but for all of you marathoners out there, just remember that you were once at this place too - maybe when you were eight, but still...

So I'm running, covered in my Under Armour compression-gear, North Face mittens, and REI skull cap, and I'm feeling good at the one mile mark - the place where the road comes to an open cornfield.

That's when I learned my first running lesson of the day:
1) A newbie checks the temperature. A runner checks the windchill.

Uh, can I get a face mask please?! And I'm not talking about the kind that gets you a 15-yard penalty. Thankfully, the 5° F windchill only lasted for a couple of miles. And so I pressed on...

At mile 4, I wondered if I was going to make the next five miles because the cold and wind were starting to get to me.

That's when lesson #2 arrived:
2) GU gel must be the nourishment of the gods.

Within five minutes of swallowing the gooey substance, my lungs and legs both felt powerfully unstoppable. Now if only GU would heal wounds like the ointment Haymitch had sent to Katniss. I sure could have used that, because..

ENTER: Blisters.

CUE: Emotional Breakdowns and Semi-Hyperventilation at Miles 5, 6, and 8.5.

Do not worry. I just had a few girl-moments on those barren country roads due to the fact that these blisters were Marathon Man-related. If you knew how I connected the two, you wouldn't think I was that weird. Bless my over-analytical, desiring-of-approval self.

After the sobs subsided, around mile 7, I learned my next lesson:
3) With freezing temperatures, blowing snow, and icy patches, a person can grow semi-accustomed to giant, unopened blisters forming on her foot.

Still, those anti-blister socks are looking pretty good.

After 9 miles, I walked into my house with sore calves and aching feet. I decided it was time to do what Marathon Man always did after his runs - take an ice bath. Well, before I fully committed to such a cool endeavor, I wanted to ease myself into it first. I tried just an ice-cold foot bath.

The final lesson of the day:
4) Ice baths are for hot-blooded men who like the thermostat set under 65 degrees.

Agh...so painful. We are talking Jack Bauer-kind-of torture here. I barely made it for 30 seconds in the soaking tub. Maybe when it's 90 degrees outside, I will try again.

So even though Sunday began as a horrible day, it ended much better. I survived 9 miles and could have kept going! One year ago, I never would have thought that possible - I was lucky to get in 5 miles. At this rate, the Mini is gonna be breeze. But before I get too delighted with my almost-double digit mileage, I still have a marathon to get to first.