Today, I did something stupid. I ran close to TWENTY-THREE miles (close to=22.5something). The day before I have to sit in a plane all cramped up and stuff (well, likely not that cramped as I'm FLYING VIRGIN AMERICA FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER, word, and I hear it's like JetBlue, my favorite airline ever, on steroids). But still, that does little to ease the pain and cramping that I feel from my toenails to the tips of my earlobes. Because 23 miles? Um, that takes me two hours alone to just drive in this city, so why did I think it was a brilliant idea to brave the hills from Union Square to the wharf in Sausalito? (For the record, with all the hills, it took somewhere in the vicinity of four hours to run; I'm shooting for 4:30 on race day.) Maybe because I had yet another crazy idea to RUN A MARATHON despite hating running more than hardly anything else in life, and THAT MARATHON is in just five weeks. YIKES. But holy Kris Kristoffersen, I feel like that skunk over on Hillside Boulevard that was recently mowed down by a semi (RIP skunk). Scott rubbed me down completely, erm on top of my clothing of course, with some sort of Icy Hot substitute, and now not only is my body throbbing in agony out of soreness, but it's effing freezing and tingles like Hell, as well.
Of course, as you might expect, the second my feet hit the pavement for said run, my semi-new iPod Shuffle that I purchased just for running purposes, broke. Just like that. I really was about to burn down Steve Job's house, or at least feed Ex-Lax to his dog, but I'm learning to handle situations without violence more calmly, and I was meeting Autumn in Nob Hill for the first six miles anyway, so she loaned me her fancy new Red iPod, you know the kind that's for "a cause" and likely contributes all of two bucks from every $200 purchase to AIDS.
After I split from Autumn and was over the Golden Gate Bridge and in Sausalito (one of my favorite little towns in the area), I stopped on mile 14 for my sugar surge (highly advised to anyone who runs more than 10 miles or so), since I'd "conveniently" forgotten to bring along any nasty ass delicious Gu packets. Last time, I stopped at the Starbucks downtown and wolfed down half a donut (and didn't feel bad about it one bit, dammit, as each of my long runs I burn 2,5000+ calories). This time, to my dismay, they were clean out of donuts. Still, I inquired to the pretty college-aged barista, who didn't have a hair out of place.
She looked at me skeptically. "You don't want a donut."
First of all, who the heck are you to tell me what I do or do not want? Secondly, I couldn't decide if she was 1) implying I was overweight (I'm not...am I?) and didn't need the donut (normally, I would agree), 2) saying they simply weren't that good, or 3) looking out for me and taking note that I'd obviously been working out quite strenuously and why would I want to counter all that hard work with 30 fat grams that take 45 seconds to consume? I'd like to think the third option.
Still, I was livid and wanted to scream, "GIVE ME THE EFFING DONUT!!!!" but my mama raised me better than that, so instead I calmly explained that I was in the midst of a verrrry loooong run and needed a sugar surge, lest she be responsible for me going into hypoglycemic shock right along Highway 101 and wouldn't she feel so guilty about that?, and ordered an organic apple juice and ginger cookie to spite her. I thought this might shut her up, but then the peppering of questions began: "have you always been a runner?" (kinda, in the sense that I was always an athlete", "how long have you been training?" (about four months), "is it hard?" (umm...duh?), etc. Finally, I escaped the evil clutches of her perky ponytail and finished the last 8.5 miles feeling like my knees would snap at any second, freeing my legs to detach from my body. Last week's 18-miler seemed like a breeze at the time, and I don't know if it's because I ran 4+ more today, if I haven't been doing good enough at taking my vitamins regularly (true story) , or the fact that I stupidly logged a total of 37 miles and a few sprints in 3.5 days that just made me feel like the poor skunk. Still, I live to tell the tale, and that's what's important, right?
And now I'm off to Alaska, then Seattle with SVV for nine days to meet my lovely family, the first real vacation Scott and I have taken since Hawaii in January 2007. Wishing you all lovely holiday weekends; and to all of you non-Americans, well, don't be too jealous we get the Fourth of July off, considering you have like 16 weeks of vacation per year! Cheers; I'll try to post if ever I have Internet access on the boat.
**********
A video of SVV and me playing tourist/scouting locations for our future home (lease is up in August; we could technically move back to the city then if we wanted):
Of course, as you might expect, the second my feet hit the pavement for said run, my semi-new iPod Shuffle that I purchased just for running purposes, broke. Just like that. I really was about to burn down Steve Job's house, or at least feed Ex-Lax to his dog, but I'm learning to handle situations without violence more calmly, and I was meeting Autumn in Nob Hill for the first six miles anyway, so she loaned me her fancy new Red iPod, you know the kind that's for "a cause" and likely contributes all of two bucks from every $200 purchase to AIDS.
After I split from Autumn and was over the Golden Gate Bridge and in Sausalito (one of my favorite little towns in the area), I stopped on mile 14 for my sugar surge (highly advised to anyone who runs more than 10 miles or so), since I'd "conveniently" forgotten to bring along any nasty ass delicious Gu packets. Last time, I stopped at the Starbucks downtown and wolfed down half a donut (and didn't feel bad about it one bit, dammit, as each of my long runs I burn 2,5000+ calories). This time, to my dismay, they were clean out of donuts. Still, I inquired to the pretty college-aged barista, who didn't have a hair out of place.
She looked at me skeptically. "You don't want a donut."
First of all, who the heck are you to tell me what I do or do not want? Secondly, I couldn't decide if she was 1) implying I was overweight (I'm not...am I?) and didn't need the donut (normally, I would agree), 2) saying they simply weren't that good, or 3) looking out for me and taking note that I'd obviously been working out quite strenuously and why would I want to counter all that hard work with 30 fat grams that take 45 seconds to consume? I'd like to think the third option.
Still, I was livid and wanted to scream, "GIVE ME THE EFFING DONUT!!!!" but my mama raised me better than that, so instead I calmly explained that I was in the midst of a verrrry loooong run and needed a sugar surge, lest she be responsible for me going into hypoglycemic shock right along Highway 101 and wouldn't she feel so guilty about that?, and ordered an organic apple juice and ginger cookie to spite her. I thought this might shut her up, but then the peppering of questions began: "have you always been a runner?" (kinda, in the sense that I was always an athlete", "how long have you been training?" (about four months), "is it hard?" (umm...duh?), etc. Finally, I escaped the evil clutches of her perky ponytail and finished the last 8.5 miles feeling like my knees would snap at any second, freeing my legs to detach from my body. Last week's 18-miler seemed like a breeze at the time, and I don't know if it's because I ran 4+ more today, if I haven't been doing good enough at taking my vitamins regularly (true story) , or the fact that I stupidly logged a total of 37 miles and a few sprints in 3.5 days that just made me feel like the poor skunk. Still, I live to tell the tale, and that's what's important, right?
And now I'm off to Alaska, then Seattle with SVV for nine days to meet my lovely family, the first real vacation Scott and I have taken since Hawaii in January 2007. Wishing you all lovely holiday weekends; and to all of you non-Americans, well, don't be too jealous we get the Fourth of July off, considering you have like 16 weeks of vacation per year! Cheers; I'll try to post if ever I have Internet access on the boat.
**********
A video of SVV and me playing tourist/scouting locations for our future home (lease is up in August; we could technically move back to the city then if we wanted):
Crooked Street, Crooked People from krysleigh on Vimeo.
8 comments:
oh my god. if someone told me that i didn't want a donut when i wanted a donut...there would be hell to pay.
or, more likely, there would be tears . ahahah.
You know, I'm trying to be less violent and homicidal as well but tell me that I don't want a donut and I'll choke the hell out of someone and THEN have my donut.
A donut stop...you're living my fantasy! Only a month remaining to the big race and I am finally getting nervous and more concerned. I read about a famous donut store near Union Square, perhaps it could be incorporated as water stop? Very nice post.
Wow! Twenty three miles? You deserve as many donuts as you want.
If someone told me I didn't want a donut when all I wanted was a damn donut... you know I don't even want to think about it.
I feel like I don't even need my energy drink after reading this post. You should market your blog energy. Blenergy? It needs work.
Have a fun trip!
good job on the run!! you are almost there!!!
have fun in alaska! i was there a few years ago and it was great. have a good time in seattle too! if you have a spare moment to meet up, send me an email - otherwise i'll plan on meeting you on your next trip up!
Um, I watched this video from start to finish and I live here! SW is right that it's not the crookedest street.
And yeah, what's up with that girl giving you lip over the donut. People who don't eat donuts have no soul.
Oh my goodness. just reading your blog makes me tired. Have an amazing vacation, you running wonder!!!
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