In Case You Were Wondering, I Still Run

So in the last month I did some globe-trotting (Australia! Vegas! Korea! and the most exciting, South Dakota!) saw some people I missed dearly, and had a ton of fun. When I’m in Brisbane for work in the next couple weeks I’ll upload photos…the internet here is too damn slow to bother. But for now, I wanted to get something in writing here to hold myself to it.

I don’t have any strong prospects for getting in a marathon anytime soon. For a while there it looked like I’d be able to get to LA in March and run there, but that’s since fallen through. I’ve been staring at the calendar with little direction for training, wishing there could be SOMETHING to get excited about.

And then last night after a team PNG-Mex dinner (it’s a thing now, and it’s not nearly as good as TexMex, but we sure do try) and a few too many Coronas (we can get Coronas here now! This is big!) my boss and I somehow ended up challenging each other to a half marathon face-off (insert cheese-tastic gesture from that terrible movie here.)

Obviously it has to be on the treadmill (don’t worry though, our gym at work has 3 treadmills so we’ll be duking it out alongside each other) and the date is set for February 18th. Based on his age (in his 40s) and the fact that he’s not a competitive runner AT ALL, we agreed on a handicap of 5 minutes and 2 seconds for him. (I did some creeping around on age-graded performances to find this number.) He’s already said he thinks it’d be a stretch for him to win (I smell sandbagging), but he was down for the challenge to finish it.

And me? I’m taking this as a challenge to beat the pants off of him.

I figure since I’ll be running from the comfort of a temperature-controlled gym with water/gel/whatever at my fingertips (but not having to carry it or stop/slow down for it) with no hills, there’s no reason why I can’t match my current PR (1:48:33). I don’t have any illusions about being in shape to run a REAL 1:48 right now, but on a treadmill I think it’s possible. I think I just might be able to get under that too, and that’s officially my goal: to hit stop before the clock gets to my PR.

Clearly I’ve got to bring my A game for this one, lest I be ribbed mercilessly by the guys I work with. (We’re a pretty laid back dish-it-out group. I’d NEVER hear the end of it if I lost to my casual gym-goer boss when they know I spend my lunch break on a treadmill most days.)

So basically, I’ve got a month. Since it suited me well in Philly, I’m not making a training plan. I will, however, start running some of those painful mile repeats again, and getting in some serious suffering on the ‘mill. I’m back at 35 miles a week, so I think I can jump into some intensity without too many negative effects (aside from the regret/horror that comes along with putting the treadmill at anything over 8.0 for a considerable amount of time…)

And just because I can, I’m running 26 miles on the my 26th (February 6th!) I won’t be able to do it all at once since it’s a work day (unless I got up at 2 am…) but that’s something I’ve been meaning to commit myself to as well. Just for fun.

So there you have it. February 6th, my legs get a marathon worth of miles. And on the 18th, I shall obtain some bragging rights with the boys at the office. Wish me luck!

Happy running.

Random Musings

I’m straight-up OBSESSED with Ingrid Michaelson’s “The Chain” (particularly the live from Webster Hall version). I’ve left my AP lit days behind me and have yet to interpret exactly what this song means, but I nearly tear up at the end and I don’t know why. I like it. (EDITED TO ADD: I googled the lyrics. That? Is not what my ears heard. Got the meaning now. Hah.)

I’m home alone this week (haha blogger safety SUCK IT! I’m 7,000 miles away from most of my readers and I have an electrified fence, guards, an alarm system, and far greater threats than blog creepers nearby) because Mr. Engineer is up in the Highands (aka the actual middle of nowhere). It’s supposed to be some incredibly beautiful scenery. It’s also where all the tangible threats of, um…unfriendly locals, uh, lurk. (Use your imagination/google here…I’m bound by a confidentiality agreement not to divulge all the things I know.)

Last Monday I flew the most miles I’ve ever consecutively flown ever. (I’m also now turbo-platinum with American/OneWorld! Score!) I’d post some ridiculous map showing my journey but I actually went AROUND the world so it’s hard to draw out in one dimension, you know? But every flight was late, and I did a mad-dash sprint in the Atlanta airport carrying two fairly heavy bags on legs that had juuuuust run a marathon (ow!) Lucky for me I made it back to Port Moresby with my bags (and all the good coffee I smuggled back!) If you’re curious, the route was Philly-Atlanta-Houston-Dallas-Brisbane (like a 17 hour flight FRICK!)-Port Moresby. Whole lotta butt time.

This meant that when I woke up the morning after getting back (Thursday! you lose so much time coming here!) I was ready to RUN!) Just four miles…I know better than to push it post-marathon…but I’ve gotten in lots more miles since and the legs are good. I’m counting myself lucky to be someone who can handle/likes high (relative term–like 50ish  a week makes me damn happy) mileage…now if I can just figure out how to run those miles quickly…hmmm….

I’m dying to get out of here for Christmas. So much so that I’m already dreading our return post-Christmas. I know that’s terrible, and I’m trying to get myself to stop thinking that way. I mean, we get nearly a MONTH away! It’s hard to be be homesick for so long though, you know? It’s also crushing my soul that we have no Christmas decorations here and all I want to do is decorate like mad and bake cookies and sing Christmas carols like there’s no tomorrow. And it’s 90 degrees out.

I wore a sweater and a scarf to work Friday even though the aforementioned temperature was in full swing. The day after Thanksgiving is for cuddling up and feeling cozy DAMMIT.

Well, if you’re still reading even though your quick scan of this post told you there were no photos (the horror!) two gold stars for you. Hope you’re well, loving life, and doing a better job of appreciating the present than I am. I’m working on it.

Happy running.

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