Thursday, August 28, 2014

And So It Begins

The good news:  I am one week into half marathon training and- so far as I know, at least- have not yet died.

The bad news:  I am extremely annoying to be around right now.

If you do not set precise boundaries around our conversation, it will eventually end up at the topic of running, racing, or half marathons vs 5k's vs marathons vs 10k's vs whatever.

I am like a very excitable and frantic puppy.  It's like when you're pregnant with your first baby, and you talk about every single tiny detail, both significant and insignificant, to anyone who will listen, then you learn American Sign Language because no one around you should be spared news of your magnificent, excruciatingly fascinating pregnancy.

Then you get pregnant with your second and people ask questions like, "When are you due?" and you have no idea both because you don't keep track of that kind of thing this time around and you can't quite seem to remember what the date is on any given day.

With your third pregnancy the question "When are you due?" provokes first confusion then astonishment because you are often caught off guard with the news that you are, indeed, pregnant.  I can't tell you how many times people started to talk to me about pregnancy and I thought, Man, this lady REALLY likes babies, followed closely by HOLY CRAP THAT'S RIGHT I'M PREGNANT.  I can only guess at what it's like with the fourth pregnancy on; I imagine you're making supper for your slavering horde of offspring (I don't mean to sound derogatory- this is in fact what our children resemble thirty minutes before supper), and you're stirring the marinara and telling Junior to Put the granola bar down, for heaven's sake, we're eating in 90 SECONDS, then you feel something shift in your abdomen and turn around and look at that!  There's another one!

This may or may not be why we don't have four children.

This is my first half marathon, so I am that first-pregnancy woman, both amusing and slightly irritating to veteran long-distance racers.  Thankfully I have a running guru-friend who dropped off her copy of the book Train Like a Mother (it's excellent, I'm starting my second read-through as soon as I finish this) two days after I got ahold of her and told her I'm maybe-possibly-kind of thinking about signing up for the Des Moines half marathon, then met Cade and me for coffee this morning so she could answer my 4 million questions, all while being very encouraging and not even close to patronizing, despite the fact that she's training for a 50k (that's five-zero, 50 kilometers, an over 30 MILE RACE).  I check the race website obsessively, have attacked my legs with a rolling pin (to roll out sore muscles and areas of potential injury, not beat them into submission, although that's sometimes tempting), and yakked Derek to death about the whole thing.

As a result, I'll probably be posting a bit more about running and training and such until race day (OCTOBER 19TH.  I'M NOT FREAKING OUT AT ALL ALREADY.), unless I get injured, in which case you won't hear from me at all, as I'll be curled up in a ball crying and binge-watching Doctor Who.

So:  Exhibiting higher amounts of irritating traits, even more anxious than usual, and courting injury on an almost-daily basis.  Running is obviously excellent for my health.


  1. That is the only time I have seen pregnancy used as a metaphor for running.

    Rolling a rolling pin on your legs is an actual thing that actual runners do? So rolling out a pie crust is the closest I am going to get to running.

    Yeah, pre-mealtime is like that. Don't the offspring SEE that we are COOKING DINNER, and in fact we are SERVING DINNER, like, RIGHT NOW. (Sorry for shouting. This particular thing of eating 30 seconds before dinner really irks me.)

  2. Good luck! Can't wait to hear all about it. :0)


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