How to Run a Half Marathon

How to Run a Half Marathon

Subtitle: You don’t have to look very far for him here. He’s is step one. As he should be. 

39 days left but I am not worried. I can use a sword AND outrun the fudgers. Bring on the zombies. 

Step 1: Change your stars. Turn 30, fall to pieces, get addicted to a Sci-Fi TV show you over looked in college and grad school because you were taking a silly amount of credit hours each semester and fall in love with a fictional character not because he is hot, although you realize about season five as they are killing him off that he is like Apollo/Adonis hot - how did I MISS THAT, but because he never gives up. Thank you Daniel, for everything. 

Step 2: Pick a race. Ok, so I bitch about Virginia and threaten to move to Canada, Spain, Miami and Mexico, but in reality I have a passionate love affair with Richmond. I have to say that having done a few races here now, this is the FRIENDLIEST place to run on the planet, maybe even the universe. (Not that I have gated anywhere to know yet... :p) So, yes, I’m probably not going anywhere, so you might as well come here. I’ll meet you at the party stop. 

Step 3: Commit in ink. Sure, the damn race costs $75-$100 and you would THINK that is enough, but really, if you freak out enough you can back out of anything and convince yourself that the costs can be made up by not eating out a few nights or something. You need something a bit more, well, permanent. I suggest a tattoo. Because nothing says commitment like ink that will never go away. Oh, and if you were wondering, I went with a runner on my left outside ankle. Not a mustache and goatee.... (I’m STILL not over that comment LOL). 

Step 4: Start training. No jokes here, I went to marathonrookie.com and printed a race plan that matched the number of weeks I had to commit to this. That’s IT.  Nothing against those who chose to pay $200+ for the training teams, but like Greek Life in college, I don’t pay for stuff I can get for free. Sorry. 

Step 5: Get encouragement, because let’s face it, you’re like the only person you know doing this and there is no one to run with you. Enlist EVERY human being you can. Recruit your twitter army to send Daniel Jackson pictures to you every time you go on a long run. Recruit your Facebook friends to post wall messages throughout the entire process. Have your spouse run your put crew to bring you water and flashlights when the sun goes down as you are 5/6 of the way through your double digit Saturday runs. Get people to write well wishes on your virtual wall, send you messages that you will carry in your bottle. Get your students and family to sign your technical shirt.  Mail your last race shirt to LONDON so your friend can tell Michael Shanks what you are doing so he can sign the shirt, give you a message and take the time to give a shit which makes you cry. You need each and everyone one of these people. TRUST ME. Because this is NOT EASY.

Step 6: Have the most AWESOME in-laws in the FRAKKIN’ world. In-laws that get you a hotel room at the Jefferson, the POSHEST hotel in Richmond (I LOVE YOU MARY) and then have same said awesome in-laws take you to the Tobacco Company for the Race Day special (which I kid you NOT was the biggest piece of Chicken Parm I have EVER seen in my ENTIRE life). You need this too, you need a good place to sleep close to the start and a full tummy. Rest well. Tomorrow is a big day. 

Step 7: Wake up early. Get dressed, attach your number, listen to Hot Roommate chew out room service because your protein shake is late, hug Adorable Nerd and Fashionista in Training, race downstairs, take coffee from the AWESOME hotel staff who have it ready and waiting for anyone with a race number and walk a mile to the starting line.  Meet up with other runners, chat it up, calm your nerves, tweet like there is no tomorrow.  Oh my Athena we’re moving. Headphones it. Marathon playlist on. Starting Tweet prepped. Imma make you my bitch. 

Step 8: Run like the wind. Holy cow this is soo cool! Like the 10K was cool but this is the SHIT. Notice everything because, since we are in Richmond after all, there be crazy mess. First, I’d like someone to explains the tutus to me because I have run like 8 races in the past year and every time someone is wearing tutu and I am so confused. Note that your former Grad School (Go University of Richmond SPIDERS!) now has a Quidditch team (because of course there was no cool shit like that when I was there). Stop at every water station, you get more thirsty than you would imagine. Slap EVERY child’s hand you pass, EVERY, because it is 8 am and they are up in coats outside to cheer you on. Oh, and DON’T take the gel at mile 8. That is NASTY, like super nasty. Like, I wish I could puke that up nasty but I have to keep running. Instead, wait till you get to VCU frat row. Like the 10K they are giving out beer and people are REALLY taking it! TAKE THE BEER!!! YES, I KNOW it is only step 8, but TAKE THE BEER. 

Step 9: Push through the pain. About mile 11 all of a sudden your left buttock decides that it no longer wants to be part of your body no matter the amount of negotiating that you’re doing with it. Seriously ass?! My KNEES are what the doctors have been worrying about and today YOU decide to give me problems. Tweet for help, help will come and keep pushing. Keep pushing. Keep pushing. JUST KEEP PUSHING.

Step 10: There it is and it’s okay to cry. The music around you is finally louder than the music in your headphones, there is a big banner at the end of the hill and there’s your family and you’re tweeting the finish and everyone is telling you to run like hell and as if your friends are psychic text messages start flying in; the announcer is calling that you’ve made it, you’ve finished, run, run, run and cry. Fall into Hot Roommate’s arms (not mine though) and cry. Because you changed your stars. Thank you Daniel Jackson. Thank you Michael Shanks. Thank you Jack(Hot Roommate). Thank you Mom. Thank you kiddos. Thank you to my friends. Thank you to my students. Thank you everyone. YOU have made this possible. YOU helped me conquer it all. 

Forget the wine. I am going to get UV Chocolate Cake Vodka. 

Bottom’s up! 

How to Change Your Stars

How to Change Your Stars

Subtitle: I didn’t like me. At all. So guess what? I did something about it. 

This entry is a little more serious and in homage to my anniversary this summer. One year ago, on July 17th 2011, I decided to change my stars. Here’s how and why I did. 

Step 1: The deterioration.  It will happen to everyone. Everyone.  There is no one root cause but mine was quiet simple: I got comfortable.  I had Hot Roommate after three stupid years of NOT letting myself be attracted to him and finally admitting everything to him because of my good friend José. I had a cute little house in the country that was super pretty despite the insanity of building it myself. I had two little perfect demons that were happily driving me insane. Ok, you whiney brat, if you were so damn happy that we are about ready to click off of this blog, what in the heck is wrong with you?!?! I stopped caring about me. Which was stupid, because she’s kinda important. To you know, the three things (4 if you separate the demons above).  Read on...

Step 2: The realization. Ok, if we read the 10K entry you know part one of this story already.  Let’s recap, Clare was little, she thought I was a man because I was fat and dressed like one.  She even said she had two daddies.  Ouch.  I don’t have a problem with two daddies, that just wasn’t the look I was going for. Then, there is the fact that Hot Roommate laughed at the idea of me running. At all. Or finishing anything for that matter.  What!?! I used to be THE go to girl to get things done and now I’m the half-ass person who just exists? And my own husband thinks so? Oh hell no! 

Step 3: The motivation. Next, you need to throw fit, scream at everyone using a plethora of profanity in a variety of languages and lock yourself in your bedroom with your computer. Turn on your computer, plug in your headphones and cue up some cinema on Netflix.  Watch Star Wars first and cry, because when you were a child Princess Leia was your hero.  Fat, unmotivated, depressed chicks can’t be Princess Leia.  Upset, flip over to Legend of the Seeker.  Have same reaction watching Cara and Kahlan. Get mad, change program again.  Finally watch that Stargate show you missed while in grad school your friends keep telling you to watch. Watch about 30 mins of first episode. And fall completely and totally in love.  

Step 4: The situation. Shut off the computer.  What happened to you? If things like the Stargate really existed, you really were cool enough, smart enough, everything enough to be a part of something like that (and get that PERFECT MAN - hell, you got Hot Roommate who is awesome and even he thinks you’ve turned into a monster).  Go look in the mirror. Realize you are huge, have a constant frown on your face, and dark circles because you don’t sleep, you just lay around feeling sorry for yourself. That’s not you.  In fact, I have no idea who in the hell you are girl, but you’ve got to go. Now. 

Step 5: The transformation.  Now, keep it all inside until you find the right person to break to. Otherwise, you just end up blubbering like a drunken fool (perhaps drunk indeed) to anyone and everyone and no one will take you seriously. I recommend breaking-down to a professional. It might be a shrink, but for me it was my Ob-Gyn.  She let me sit there, blubber like an idiot and then handed me a folder.  I am not sure the name on it anymore, but I know it was politically correct way of saying “How to not be a Fat Ass Anymore and Actually not Die of Type 2 Diabetes,” or something along those lines.  There was no explanation, just a “Look, I know you are a smart person. Read this. Call me if you have any questions. I’m glad you’ve decided to do this.” 

Step 6: The frustration. Ok, I’m not gonna to lie.  Running hurts.  Lifting weights hurts.  Eating right is killer.  Don’t give up.  You’re gonna sprain ankles while leaping over furniture like a gazelle and have to have the cute Redneck ambulance drivers carrying you down the stairs in the skimpiest workout clothes ever because you were working out before the kids got up and oh yeah, they’re up now, on the phone with 911 talking about how clumsy you are.  You’re husband will get promoted and leave you with the children 24/7 so you have to improvise like crazy and ride your bike while lifting weights at the same time so you don’t lose workout time.  It’s gonna to be frustrating.  Don’t give up.  

Step 7: The dedication. Get right back up after each of these.  So, you go 21 days without running? Lift weights until you can and start running as soon as you are allowed.  Now, you’re not gonna run miles right off the bat, but be dedicated enough to work your way back up.  Don’t listen to naysayers.  I’ve been told, well you don’t run that fast or it’s not like you’re a REAL athlete.  These people are asshats and they are just jealous that YOU don’t hate your life anymore.  Let them keep hating theirs.  You just keep going and do what you gotta do to succeed.  

Step 8: The destination. Ok, this is not even about meeting Michael Shanks anymore. (Although words cannot describe how excited I am to be able to just touch this man!!!) It’s about realizing that I can finally do anything I set my mind to, even if it is something as crazy as meeting your celebrity crush.  Riding everything at the local theme park that you were ever afraid of.  Trying Hot Yoga. Belly Dancing in front of a crowd.  Writing a story, a novel, a blog.  Putting yourself out there. Because remember, you were pretty cool. And you still are.  

Step 9: The dispensation.  For this to truly work you don’t just going flouncing around bragging.  I get a lot of compliments and the first thing I say is “Thanks, but anyone can do it if I did.  Just let me know, I’m happy to share.” And be there for those people when they hit steps 5-7.  Be there when they tell you what THEIR step 8 is and don’t laugh (cuz come on YOURS is to HUG Michael Shanks, does it get sillier?? I thought not). Be supportive and caring and don’t be afraid to ask for help if you need it. 

Step 10: The celebration. Wine time!! Hey, wanna know the best part of this? It takes less wine to be happy when you are smaller.  So you can either save the money or buy more expensive wine. But drink up and drink well! You deserve it.  

Happy Anniversary! And if YOU ;) are reading: I’m not one of the crazies, I just wanted to thank you for helping me change my stars even though you weren’t even aware that you did.