Fit Like?

Q. How do you warm yourself up on a frigid northern Scottish winter's evening?
A. Join the Metro Aberdeen running club for a training session, that's what!

I went with my mum, stepdad, brother and sister-in-law last night to take part in their team's Tuesday evening training run. I was assured of a "gentle jog", but ended up working harder than I think I have at any point since the marathon! The ice covered pavements made the route a little more treacherous than I would have liked. I felt sure I was going to land on my chin as I've been apt to do lately, but somehow I managed to stay vertical for the entire 8 mile route. About half way, my mum took off with two of the men and was almost completely out of sight when I decided to take advantage of a steep downhill stretch (which came after over a mile climb) to catch her. I was probably running 10K race pace at that stage! It was extremely exhilirating to be charging down that hill on the sheet of ice, knowing I couldn't break stride or lose concentration for a second, or I most certainly would have gone flying.

I didn't realize quite what a superb club Metro is; producing many the likes of 2:09 marathoner and Scottish champion Fraser Clyne, as well as my mum of course - who remains the only Metro woman to have earned a position in the elite women's start of the London Marathon.

The run last night came on top of quite a few other lovely runs around Aberdeen including a 1:36 in and around all the areas I grew up in. I call it my literal "trip down memory lane," I just let my legs take me wherever I recognized a path, a trail, a building, a road... I even ran through the grounds of both my old primary and secondary schools. Why does everything appear so much smaller and shorter than I recall? In fact, it seems the whole of Aberdeen has shrunk!

Needless to say I've been having a blast over here (tho my friends would tease me for using such a phrase!), and I'm sad to be coming back stateside on Sunday (after a weekend catching up with good friends in London). Don't get me wrong, I love NYC and all my friends there, but over the past week I have again been reminded of the superior quality of life that everyone I know leads this side of the Pond. So in answer to your question Thomas, yes - my resolve for Matt and me to move back to Scotland eventually has definitely been strengthened.

Foos Your Doos?

Greetings from the Silver City with the Golden Sands!

It's 1am here now and despite getting up at a reasonable hour this morning, I am not in the slightest bit sleepy yet. Oh dear - the inevitable jet lag has hit and is threatening to mess up my whole first week. MUST get up at 7am tomorrow morning for a run no matter how little snoozing I get done tonight.

Needless to say it's wonderful to be 'home.' I was collected at the airport late yesterday by my dad, and stayed with him last night. I had arranged to meet my mum for our first run together this morning. Seeing her (& my stepdad and sister-in-law!) again at the designated meeting point after the looooooong nine month gap was quite emotional, especially since we were literally running down the street with open arms towards each other. It was like something out of a (not very glamorous) movie.

We ran a 8.5 miles down to the beautiful River Dee, through gorgeous Duthie Park, and along the old disused railway line. Again I am reminded how I took growing up in this place so much for granted. The clear air, the quality of the light, the equisittely maintained parks and gardens; Aberdeen (at least compared to NYC) is a runner's paradise. Tomorrow I plan to head out on my own further into the country to the woods and trails where I rode horses as a kid.

Huge congrats to my friends for running the Philadelphia marathon today. It was Bridget's first ever marathon and broke 5 hours, and Andre took an entire hour off his time from last year for a sub-four! Who does that?

Must go and at least try to catch some Zzzzzzzzs now...big day tomorrow of catching up with old friends =)

Time To Get The Hell Out of Dodge

A man was shot to death in my favourite local diner just one block from our apartment this morning.

Yes, methinks this is a good time to escape the big city for a while. I promise to blog from bonnie Scotland (yes Mia - with pictures if possible!) whenever I get the chance.




Catch you on the flip side...

Cesspool

I recovered from my 36-hour hangover on time to go into work for a few hours Sunday (yuck) then ran a 7.5 mile route home via the Williamsburgh Bridge. Slow and pleasant. But left knee twinges are back once again to haunt me.

I went to my local Y yesterday morning for the usual mile swim only to be informed that it had just that moment closed temporarily while they cleaned some kid's poop out of it. Phew - talk about fortuitous timing. I returned again after work and had my best-to-date post-marathon swim in the (presumably) feces-free water. I tried to put the concept out of my mind although I couldn't help but gag occasionally between strokes at the thought of what had floated there just 12 hours earlier. Well, whaddaya expect for $38/month in NYC?

I didn't run today either for no good reason whatsoever. I can feel the running slightly slipping away, and it's making me anxious. I really want to get back to a healthy 40 mpw soon; to what end though - I'm not yet sure. I just can't bear the thought of this major part of my life and identity disappearing (not to mention - it would mean the death of this blog!). It's funny how just a couple days' off makes me panic that everything's going to hell in a hand basket. I should try to chill a little. Anyways, I'm hoping to get a ton of wonderful miles in with my mum (& brother and sisters-in-law) in Scotland when I'm there over the next fortnight. I can't wait =)

The Morning After The Night Before

I made many, many classic mistakes at yesterday's event. You'd think I'd know better by now.

For starters, I didn't train at all. After months of relative sobriety, I expected my body to be able to handle hours of sustained abuse. Wrong.

I ate not a single morsel of food before setting off. On top of this I did not stop for substantial fuel intake at any point throughout the 6 hour meet. Wrong.

I drank virtually no water. In its stead, those untrustworthy folks at the water station handed me cocktail after poisonous cocktail. I'm sure I protested loudly...they mustn't have heard me...Wrong.

I did not pace myself well at all. I set off at a speed that should be reserved for only the most seasoned of partiers. I gave no thought whatsoever to how that would hurt me later. Wrong.

Needless to say I seriously injured myself as a result of all this. It may take some time for a full recovery.

Never Again.

Friday Fun

This has absolutely nothing to do with running, it just made me laugh out loud - always a good way to start off a weekend. Number 5 is my favourite, and not just coz it's from my hometown (where I'll be in just one week!!!)

This was sent to me by one of my many British pals with the message "Crikey....we're nutters!"

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Why We Like The British - FROM BRITISH NEWSPAPERS

1) Commenting on a complaint from a Mr. Arthur Purdey about a large gas bill, a spokesman for North West Gas said, "We agree it was rather high for the time of year. It's possible Mr. Purdey has been charged for the gas used up during the explosion that destroyed his house." (The Daily Telegraph)

2) Police reveal that a woman arrested for shoplifting had a whole salami in her underwear. When asked why, she said it was because she was missing her Italian boyfriend. (The Manchester Evening News)

3) Irish police are being handicapped in a search for a stolen van, because they cannot issue a description. It's a Special Branch vehicle and they don't want the public to know what it looks like. (The Guardian)

4) A young girl who was blown out to sea on a set of inflatable teeth was rescued by a man on an inflatable lobster. A coast guard spokesman commented, "This sort of thing is all too common". (The Times)

5) At the height of the gale, the harbourmaster radioed a coastguard and asked him to estimate the wind speed. He replied he was sorry, but he didn't have a gauge. However, if it was any help, the wind had just blown his Land Rover off the cliff. (Aberdeen Evening Express)

6) Mrs. Irene Graham of Thorpe Avenue, Boscombe, delighted the audience with her reminiscence of the German prisoner of war who was sent each week to do her garden. He was repatriated at the end of 1945, she recalled. "He'd always seemed a nice friendly chap, but when the crocuses came up in the middle of our lawn in February 1946, they spelt out 'Heil Hitler.'" (Bournemouth Evening Echo)

Mid-Week Blahs

In a major break from the tradition - not - I am stressed out of my head right now planning a rapidly approaching housewarming party and 2-week vacation, on top of working highly unpleasant 10-12 hour days. I am therefore quite proud that I'm managing to run four or five times a week (albeit less than 30 mpw), especially given that - for the first time in 2 years - I have absolutely no race goals. It's reassuring to discover than I do just love running for running's sake. I don't need the glamour of a marathon to give me motivatation and focus. Perhaps I'm not about to turn into a giant, directionless blob after all.

I've developed a new route to work that eliminates the pain-in-the-butt part down from the Queensborough Bridge through midtown, or up from the Williamsburgh Bridge during rush hour (black snot time). I get myself to Central Park then vary the distance I run around it, depending on how I feel/the time available, before exiting south and hopping on a subway to take me the 30ish blocks to my office. I'm finding the lighter mornings conducive to getting my lazy ass out of bed a little earlier in order to roll my workout into my commute.
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Thanks to super-speedy and lovely club mate Kate, I was in the audience of The Colbert Report Tuesday night. Now there's a talented man. And sooooooo surprisingly handsome in real life! It was clear to me from being in his presence for those couple hours that he (while admittedly not a patch on Jon Stewart) has more talent in one pinkie finger nail than either Leno or Letterman.

Big Day

Big congrats to all NY finishers including 22 of my very own Hellgate crew. Extra props go to Jaime for her 34 minute PR, Beverly for achieving a BQ on her first marathon, Levi for his impressive PR, Fernando for doing a terrrific first marathon, and Aurelio for being our lead Hellgater - he's almost as short as I am, but WOW, can his legs move!

Kudos too, to fellow bloggers Danny, Richard and Louis. Great, great job on a hot day =)

Volunteering was fun (though we didn't have to do much). It was very cool to see everyone up close, from the first wheelchairs, to the elites, to the masses of mid-packers, to the costume-clad back-of-the-packers.

The annual post-race Hellgate party was a blast, and very emotional. Our coach Jared has all the finishers enter the hall one at a time upon their arrival so they can receive their very well deserved cheers and applause from the rest of the gang.

Here's a piccie of most of us who ran Boston,Chicago and/or New York this year. You wouldn't find a more wonderful bunch of people anywhere, and I'm so proud to be a part of them.

The Bonding Power of Running

Earlier this year, I was invited to a friend-of-friend's party on the Upper West Side. When I arrived I felt a little tired and unsociable, and somewhat relunctant to dive into the packed little apartment and mingle. I think it was Matt who joked "I wonder how long it will take Yvonne to find a runner in the crowd?" Happily, this was overheard by the party's host, who promptly introduced me to Chelle. And for the next 3 hours or so, the two of us sat perched on the edge of a sofa talking endlessly about running.

It might have been Jaime who chimed in a few minutes into our conversation with "so have you two figured out who's fastest yet?" That's a funny question - I'll bet on average it takes two runners meeting for the first time approximately 30 seconds to establish who is the speedier. Needless to say, I quickly took my subservient place behind Chelle, awed and humbled by her talent, as well as her vast experience.

I was reminded of this meeting last week at a business dinner. As if my job did not intrude enough into my life (the reason for my week-long blogging absence) it requires me to regularly schmooze clients over dinner. It is particularly when I'm at these dinners that I feel the acute sense that what I'm doing is not right for me. In fact, it's all wrong.

You know how you know when something is perfectly right? I knew it when I met my husband 12 years ago. I didn't marry him because I was madly in love (though I was), or because we could talk for hours on end about nothing (though we did) or any of those things. I married him because it felt 100% absolutely perfectly right, and meant to be. It still does. Running is the same way. I remember even as a lazy kid, leaping out of bed that Sunday morning every April, glued to the BBC London marathon coverage, and being tremendously moved and inspired. Running feels absolutely right. As I wrote before I ran Chicago, when I run (especially long distance) I feel like I'm doing what I'm meant to be doing.

My job is completely the opposite. I can't explain it any better than that. In every way, in every single aspect, it's wrong for me. I suppose I'm reasonably good at it, but since I don't love it in any way, I'll never, ever be great at it.

So I'm sitting there last Thursday with these television executives listening to my colleagues working hard to charm them, sounding so into the work, the industry, laying on the sales pitch, and feeling once more that I just don't care. In fact, I don't think I could possibly care less.

I quickly got the sense that one of these clients was on my wavelength. He was there because he had to be. He's in the job because for some reason, his life's chain of events lead him there, and now he's backed himself into a corner and can't get out. As it turned out we had more in common than just our mutual distaste for our occupations. He is an avid runner. Like a 4-marathons a year, ultra-marathoning, sub-3 hour marathoner. So, predictably, the two of us spent the bulk of the evening knee deep in running/marathon/ultra marathon/triathlon/PR/sneakers/injury/nutrition etc. etc. talk. The bond of running had once again given me an instant connection to a complete stranger. Not to mention rescued me from another tedious evening of shop-talk.

I've said it before and I'll say it again; there really is no end to the benefits of running.
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I'm really looking forward to the marathon tomorrow - even more so now. Matt and I are to be race marshalls on the 59th street bridge (hopefully at the on ramp.) We're going to have a clear view of the leaders, as well as the dozens of folks I know who are running. GOOD LUCK ALL =)