The Drunk Dial

No, it wasn't me who picked up the phone.

Although I have to say I am someone who needs the phone buried deep within the confines of the earth's core once I've downed a couple drinks. And the computer? Even worse--completely regrettable emails are an increasingly common occurrence.

But luckily, last night it wasn't me.

I don't mind it. I think it's funny, even a little flattering.

But somehow, I always feel like such a...well, a looser.

I think it's inherent in the situation.

I'm in bed, in my pajamas, staring at a computer screen for little or no reason...and the caller? Out with a bunch of friends, and I'm on speaker-phone. There just isn't much hope of sounding cool.

Not that I EVER sound cool, but somehow when I get those late-night calls, I always hang up feeling a bit more like the kid who sits by herself at recess reading, watching everyone else play tag and hopscotch.

Not that I have any experience with THAT...

Just Flute

Fuck the South Beach Diet...I Need a Beer

It seemed like a good idea last night, after a day of maddening rehearsals, practicing, and paper writing.

Now, when I'm tired, cranky, feeling fat, and have to go to class?

Not so much.

From the South?

You are a 100% Louisianan if you have ever had this conversation:

"You wanna Coke?"
"Yeah!"
"What kind?"
"Dr Pepper."

a THIN wire

I'm feeling like I'm about to snap...or trip over myself...or whatever the metaphor is about wires...

Recitals, term papers, presentations, regular weekly papers, articles to read, orchestra concerts with big solos, classes, lessons and spinning classes to teach, rehearsals in NYC...

It's too freaking much to deal with in the 2.5 weeks I have left until winter break.

My rough draft for my term paper is due tomorrow, and I've barely started.

I need a homework monkey to take care of it for me. Anyone?

Okay. Breathing. 2.5 weeks. It'll all get done, because there is no option--it has to get done.

I need a nap.

Proof. Kind of.

Is Anything Random?

I was tagged by Leland and asked to list 5 random facts about myself. As I started thinking about it, I realized that it's those random facts that make you who you are, so they aren't really very random at all. They're pretty damn important. So then it task becomes even more difficult; how do you pick five facts that are both seemingly random and yet also self-defining?

I'm over-thinking this, I know. I'll stop, and just write what comes to mind...

1) I was one of two Jewish kids in a high school of 2,000.
2) My first car was a $500 1984 Volvo. I was 15.
3) I kept a diary on the computer when I was in middle school, complete with a file password. I started my entries 'Dear Kitty' because I was enraptured by Anne Frank.
4) I didn't make the cheerleading team. Twice.
5) I hate needles and refuse to get my blood taken (despite the request of quite a few doctors; I just kind of 'forget' as I leave the office), but I like getting pierced. I have 12 piercings.

*I wasn't going to tag anyone, but because Greyhound has left such lovely comments, he's now officially tagged...
**After my marathon-poop-phone experience, I've had the pleasure of listening to a plethora of poop stories. Coach Cook told a pretty decent one today, so I'll tag him too.

My Favorite Tree

And because I do everything in excess, there are more.

T - 10 minutes

I've done four standalone marathons and at each one, my time has decreased by almost exactly 10 minutes.

Cleveland Marathon 2006- 4:28
Philadelphia Marathon 2006- 4:19
LA Marathon 2007- 4:09
Philadelphia Marathon 2007- 3:59

That's 20 minutes off my Philadelphia time in a year. I'm pretty happy with that.

So, I'm thinking that in 2 more marathons I can qualify for Boston. I know that logic is a bit skewed, but regardless, I think it'll hold true for a couple more races; I feel like I'll be on that ascending path for just a bit longer. And yes, I know simply running the marathons isn't going to cut it. I'll have to (gasp) train.

But, I know I can do it.

Give me another year or so and I'll be there.

The only catch is that I've got this little thing called an IronMan coming up...and I've been told by someone infinitely older and wiser than me that I'm not to do a spring marathon--even though I've been invited (begged, in fact) by friends to get to France for the Paris Marathon.

But alas, you can't do everything, says both my body and bank account.

So, no Paris Marathon; no spring endurance running. I've got a week-long bike camp coming up in March, the Houston-Austin MS150 in April, Wildflower HalfIron triathlon in May, and then the big show in June...not to mention the whole biking across the country thing. And, I'm sure I'll do some shorter distance running races in the winter, since winter is my favorite time to run. That's enough.

So, Boston? It's hard to put it off when you're all pumped up about marathon running (amazing what a good race can do for you; after LA, I swore I would never run again). But, it'll wait. I'll get there. 2 more marathons, right?

As per your request.

Rainmaker is much better at photo-borrowing than I...

Giving in to something I never even consider--going to have to order the stupid picture.

For Liz: This Year's Pies

Once again, I made the pumpkin ones...

Thanksgiving morning, the sun made amazing shadows.

It was colder in Louisiana than New Jersey.

Here's a picture of me when I was younger, is what people say.

Hell, every picture is of you when you were younger.

Happy Thanksgiving!

COLD, warm, hot, hotter

I've discovered the cure to ripped up leg muscles.

First, sit in a Cold Plunge for 20 minutes. You can't feel anything after a couple minutes and soon thereafter it actually begins to feel good.

Then, swim about 100 meters, really slowly. People will look at you funny as you half breast stroke, half doggy paddle, but just kind of chill out in the water for a few minutes and ignore the stares. The pool water will feel like a bathtub after the cold plunge.

Move on to the hot tub, and let the jets massage your legs for 10-15 minutes. It feels good. No one will stare at you, but you have to be comfortable sitting in a tub with naked ladies who think you're a prude for wearing your bathing suit.

Last, go into the steam room and lie down for another 10-15 minutes, just to sweat out all the retained water. (I'm assuming other people also bloat up like a blow-fish after races.) That feels good too. Keep to yourself. No one likes a chatterbox in the steam room.

Take a shower and get all the different chemicals off...get dressed and walk home. By the next morning, your legs will feel like new. Or, at least you won't scream in agony when you have to change between the sitting down and standing up position. Stairs will be okay too, even without walking down backwards.

I know, I know...it's a miracle!

I love being home and having the time and resources to do things like that. Vacation rocks.

Normal Pants Again

For the past couple of days, I've had to wear baggier than baggy pants because the chaffing on my legs was so bad that anything touching it would cause both pain and blood. It's nice to be able to wear jeans again...

I'm in the results!!!

They have me down at 3:56:36.

I'd be ecstatic, except I know it's not right. They have my clock time as the time I told them-3:59:47, so I'm thinking they somehow did some calculation from that to figure out what my chip time might be. Even the splits they have for me aren't what I remember.

But that's weird, right? I was very specific in my email and told them it was an accurate chip time. And, when I crossed the finish line, the clock said 4:02, so what they have is just plain wrong.

Sigh.

Either way, I'm in the top third of my age group, which makes me happy.

I won't be lame and say I ran a 3:56 when I know I didn't.

At least my name is there...

Even my mom laughed at me.

When I got home for Thanksgiving break today, my mom wanted to go on a walk. I figured it would be a good chance to stretch my legs (plus, it's a thing we always do together), so I happily went along.

Then I decided maybe I should subscribe to the whole 'Run as soon as you can after the race and you won't be sore' theory.

Umm...

I'm not sure what you would call the movement I was doing, but it definitely wasn't running.

Hobbit-hopping, is probably more like it.

My mom thought it was hilarious and laughed on the side of the road until her stomach hurt.

Somehow I don't think that little quarter mile jaunt is going to be the secret to getting better, but I'll let you know.

And then I dropped my phone down the porta potty.

Yeah, I really did. Before the race started. It was in the pocket of my shorts, and when I pulled them down to go to the bathroom, the phone popped out...and went right down the hole. And the person before me had had some serious stomach issues. Not so cool, right? But what could I do? I had my gloves on, so I used toilet paper and picked it out, wanting to vomit all over the place. I cleaned it as best I could (the TNT tent gave me some more napkins), and then bolted over to the start, as it was about 6:58 for the 7:00 start (never mind that the gun didn't go off until 7:10).

So, not the best way to start the race. It didn't seem to bode very well, but I did everything I could to just forget about it and run, even though I kept imagining I was smelling shit all over the place.

The first couple of miles were really tight. I don't remember that last year, but maybe I just blocked it out. In any case, you couldn't even really dodge people because it was so jam-packed. So, I just ran with the crowd, and assumed it would open up soon.

And it did. By the third mile, I could run at my own pace.

From miles 3-14, I was running a slightly sub-9:00 pace, and felt great. Then, I hit the exit ramp at mile 14 and was noticeably slower for the first time, and then I could never really pick it up again. For the second half of the race, my pace ranged from 9:10-9:30. I knew I had quite a bit of time 'in the bank', but as the miles ticked by, I could tell it was getting closer and closer, and I wasn't going to be able to let up at all if I wanted to break 4.

And my thought? 'I'll be DAMNED if I ran this well all day to lose it by seconds at the very end', and so I pushed through it. The whole time, my breathing felt completely fine; I never went into the anaerobic zone. It was just my legs giving out muscularly by the end, which was to be expected. I'm in great cardio shape from all the spinning classes I teach, and I've been doing a decent amount of speed work, but my long runs were definitely minimal. So, how I ran made perfect sense.

It hurt. A lot. But, I felt in control the whole time. No outbursts of sobbing or projectile puke, and I kept a relatively even pace throughout.

It's hard to know if running a bit faster than I maybe should have during the first half was good or bad. I came across the half way mark at 1:57 and change, so it was a pretty accurate pace. Maybe though, running at 9:05 instead of 8:50 would have made me less sore by the end. Or maybe running 26.2m is always hard and you're going to slow down at the end no matter what. In any case, I was pretty happy with the way I ran--with both pacing and results.

I really didn't know if I had a sub-four in me right now, and I know it was only by 13 seconds, but it still counts.

And here's the dilemma, guys. It seems my results didn't go through. I've emailed everyone organizing the race, from God on down, and I've gotten some emails back saying they're looking into it. But, if my chip didn't work, then I just don't exist, which is a pretty big bummer.

However, I know I ran a 3:59, so I'm not going to worry about it too much if it doesn't work out. It's not like I was qualifying for anything, so whether or not my time is recorded in their little list doesn't matter all that much. I started my watch right on the start line, and I stopped it immediately after I finished. So, if anything, I actually ran a second or two faster. There's no way I was over 4 hours. So, it's all okay. Yeah, I'll be much happier if I can just see it in writing, but either way, I ran the race, and I ran under 4 hours.

So, all in all, a great birthday race. I was really concerned about the weather going into it (they were saying 35 and rainy), but it actually held out perfectly until after the race. I wore gloves the whole time, and a long sleeve shirt with shorts, and I felt completely comfortable. I never even felt hot, amazingly.

I brought my own Accelerade, which saved a bunch of time. After I finished my bottle (and the packet of Cliff Blocks I brought), I used the race's Gatorade and water, but actually ran through the stops. It was the first time I was able to do that (usually I have to stop and walk to get anything down), and so that skill will definitely help in the future.

My legs completely seized up the second I stopped, so I'm walking like some kind of handicapped-alien-equestrian right now. My thighs are insanely chaffed to the point of bleeding, and I have cuts all over my back where my water bottle rubbed against it. But it's worth it. More than worth it.

After the race, I went out for lunch with my aunt, and then went to visit a different aunt, uncle, and cousin for dinner. So, I was well fed, which is of course the most important part.

Oh, and my aunt owns a framing shop and she's going to make a shadow box frame for my medal as a birthday present. 26miles on my 26th birthday with .2 to grow on. And I ran a marathon in under 4 hours. Definitely something to be remembered.

I got lost on the way back home because I was really tired and driving like an idiot, but it was okay. Me and my poop phone just sat in the car and meandered our way back to New Jersey.

Now, I have the day here before I head back to Louisiana for Thanksgiving. It's snowing here (the first snow!), so I have to say I'm looking forward to a week in the south. I'll take lots of pictures and be totally annoying about the warm weather. Maybe I'll even go swimming. Outside.

Splits, for my Type-A kin...

mile 1- 9:48
mile 2- 9:24
mile 3- 8:57
mile 4- 8:56
mile 5- 8:54
mile 6-7- 17:49--8:54.5 pace (interestingly, I missed the 6m mark last year too--it must be hard to see)
mile 8- 8:48
mile 9- 8:24 (downhill)
mile 10- 9:04 (uphill)
mile 11- 8:46
mile 12- 8:54
mile 13- 8:55
mile 14- 8:58
mile 15- 9:11 (ramp)
mile 16- 9:18
mile 17- 9:19
mile 18- 9:18
mile 19- 9:15
mile 20- 9:14
mile 21- 9:19
mile 22- 9:27
mile 23- 9:34
mile 24- 9:26
mile 25- 9:32
mile 26- 9:16 (and I felt like I was BOOKING it)
mile 26.2- 1:50

total- 3:59:47 (doing a little dance...except not, because I couldn't move...but I was doing a little dance inside my head)

After the race, I tried to call my aunt because I didn't see her anywhere...and she answered but I couldn't hear her. You know why? Because there was SHIT embedded in the ear piece. Gross. I cleaned it with rubbing alcohol and it's fine now. But damn, that's disgusting. Kind of makes my desire for an iPhone all that much stronger, you know? I was thinking of getting myself one for my birthday, but having $400 to spare isn't exactly in my vocabulary these days. And, it's just a phone, poop-filled or not.

Oh, just some quick changes about the course from last year. They changed the direction of the out and back in the second half of the race, so the ramp you have to go up is at mile 14-5 instead of 22-23...that was awesome. They also made some small changes at the mid-point of the race because they never split the half marathon off before mile 13. So, the full marathoners had to do an extra little loop in the oval to make up for the distance of the half marathoner's finishing shoot, if that makes any sense at all. I have to say, it was pretty tempting to just call it a day when the half people sprinted off to the finish...I kept it in control though, and continued on.

Once again, it was a great race. I really love the course, and I love running through a familiar city. It couldn't have been better, really.

It's unofficial...

But by my watch, I ran a 3:59:47...and I couldn't have been 13 seconds off, right?

RIGHT?

I had fun; more later, of course...now I have to go enjoy the rest of my day.

Birthdays.

I was tagged by my trombonist friend, Tony (yeah, it's possible to be friends with brass-holes...you just have to learn to roll your eyes a lot). Sometimes tags are annoying, but this one is actually kind of cool. And, it's even cooler that it's on my birthday...or, I'll pretend it is because I know I won't be up for a significant post tomorrow, having just run a marathon and all.

So, here it is...a progression of birthdays...20, 10, 5, 1, 0 years ago...

20 years ago...I was turning 6. I was in first grade. I had a bunch of friends over, most of which I'm still good friends with now. I have pictures of all of us playing the piano, with only our two front teeth in, looking like little rabbits. I got a Kaboodle and hair accessories and thought I was the luckiest girl in the world. I had an awesome teacher, Mrs. Peters. She came over to my house for brunch with my mom once and I remember feeling really freaking special.

10 years ago...I was 16. I had been driving for a year. I was at North Carolina School of the Arts as a junior in high school. It was my first birthday away from home, and I was still adjusting to not being part of my old clan back at home. My friend Kim sent me an awesome care package, and I was counting down the days until Thanksgiving break and being reunited with all of them. What's amazing is that I'm still friends with them, and that they are perhaps the people who know me best in the world. I guess that makes sense since I grew up with them, but it's been a long time since I lived in proximity, so one would have thought we'd lose touch. I'm glad we haven't. I'm glad it turns out we're the kind of friends who can not see each other or even talk for a year, and then everything is completely normal within 10 minutes of being together again.

5 years ago...I turned 21. My friends from the Cleveland Institute of Music took me to a restaurant in Little Italy and then a bar on Cedar/Lee and I ate Beet Cake and got really drunk, neither of which is at all surprising. My roommate (and best friend) at the time got me the game of Bingo, because she said I might as well get used to playing it now, since I was getting so old. It was my first birthday with my boyfriend Phil, and he was too scared to get me a present. But, he came to both restaurants with a bunch of loud girls he didn't know, and then later held my head over the toilet and fed me water and bread all night...even though I was too sick to put out. I didn't want to turn 21. I didn't care about the legal drinking age, and I just wanted to stay a kid.

1 year ago...I turned 25. I was sitting on the couch in Phil's apartment, writing about the past year. It had been a rough period in my life and I was doing everything I could to convince myself it was over. It wasn't quite, but it was getting there...convincing yourself is the first step. I spent the weekend with my Phil and all my family in Philadelphia and ran the marathon. I tried to call someone to help me up the stairs when I got back to New Jersey, but when they didn't answer, I made it up by myself.

This year...This year was mine. Even if certain things took me longer to figure out than originally planned or desired, it was still a good year. Now, I'm doing well. Tomorrow, I'm going to be 26. I'll again run 26.2 miles through the streets of Philadelphia, but more importantly, I'll wake up in the morning and smile, knowing that I'm doing it for me. I've become involved in my flute playing in a good way; I've managed to find my much-needed balance between music and athletics and friends. Phil is in Hong Kong and we don't talk much anymore. So, I get lonely; I get scared of the future (I hate starting over), but it's all positive--it's the slight fear that makes you keep working, that makes you look towards the year to come, and all the years after that...

Tapering

How is it possible to feel so out of sorts?

Fat, definitely. But somehow, still hungry all the time.

Antsy yet sluggish.

Looking forward to Sunday, and then life as normal...

Or am I presuming too much?

How did I ever do this all those years without going crazy?

I can't believe I got away with it.

The professor's response to my paper consisting of verbal diarrhea and useless commentary?

"Well, you make a good point, and you've got style. Style is important."

Of course it was the week I ended up having to read out-loud in class. I was nervous as hell beforehand, but I have to admit--it was a pretty awesome high afterwards.

During break, I got told I 'had balls' by several people. Definitely a success, then.

If you're curious, feel free to read the paper. Remember though, I didn't say it was good; just enough off the wall that it somehow passed...

[On Music and Athletics] What it was was this:

What it was was this: When you're a competitive runner in training you are constantly in a process of ascending.

That's it.

It's a simple idea, but the more I thought about it, the more profound it became to me.

It's not something most human beings would give a moment of consideration to, that it is actually possible to be living for years in a state of constant betterment. To consider that you are better today than you were yesterday or a year ago, and that you will be better still tomorrow or next week or at tournament time your senior year. That if you're doing it right you are an organism constantly evolving toward some agreed-upon approximation of excellence. Wouldn't that be at least one definition of a spiritual state?

When I was a runner it was something we lived every second of our lives. It was such a part of us that if we had ever given it a second's thought, it would have been a mental lapse, a sign of weakness. Of course I am getting better every day, I would have said, what the hell am I training for otherwise? As if there were only one alternative, as if the arrow of improvement necessarily parallels the arrow of time, and in only one direction.

....

This way of living that we once took took for granted isn't necessarily a 'natural' process at all. It's not like water flowing down to the sea, not like aging. It takes effort, determination, conviction. But mostly it takes will. It takes a conscious decision to follow one difficult uphill path, and then the will to stay with it and not waver, to not give up.

--from Again to Carthage, by John L. Parker, Jr., sequel to Once a Runner

Prostituting Your Art

I just wrote a paper for Philosophy of Music entitled 'Prostituting Your Art', claiming that gigging is worse than prostitution. I might have finally pushed the whole 'Susanna writes about crazy shit'-thing too far. I'll let you know...

Nice to know what people do to get Doctorates, right?

I pulled my groin.

So said a guy at the gym this morning. I've talked to him before; he's a nice man. But um...dude, when I asked you how you were, I didn't want to know about your groin. Or which exercise you were doing when you pulled it.

[On Music and Athletics] Then it occurred to him that as solitary as the endeavor was, he hadn't really been alone much of the time. --Quinten Cassidy

A Universal Law of Endurance Athletics

Cassidy eventually broke off his reverie to drag his bags to the back, tossing them on the bed, procrastinating on unpacking the rest of the car. He had only been on the road five hours from his Aunt Dot's place in Atlanta, but he had come to believe in a universal law of endurance athletics: The better shape you're in, the more crippled you become from long vehicle rides. Cars and planes were bad; team buses were the worst. He could remember guys in high school who climbed up into the overhead luggage racks to sleep. In fact, on the way back from a meet in Daytona one late night he was one of those guys, and it wasn't bad.

--from Again to Carthage, by John L. Parker, Jr., sequel to Once a Runner

So it all worked out.

Data Change Confirmation
Registrant's Name: Susanna Loewy
Listing Name: Philadelphia Marathon
New Order ID: 9896559-110907205028

QUESTION	ORIGINAL ANSWER	NEW ANSWER	PRICE DIFFERENCE
CUSTOM QUESTIONS
Bib Number	15985	7859

If you have any questions regarding this change, please contact our customer support team at 888-543-7223, ext. 4 or support@active.com.

(In case it's not clear, I'm now officially registered for the marathon.)

New Pajamas To Make Up For It

There's nothing like spending a little money you don't have in order to make yourself feel better for wasting money you don't have. Somehow though, it worked...

Grump

My car got towed.

I was late to a rehearsal in the city.

The rehearsal went badly (and the stupid rehearsal is the reason my car got towed).

The washing machine ate $2.50 (total money completely wasted today=$67.50).

I hate tapering and I feel fat.

I'm cranky.

Just because it's organic...

DOES NOT mean it's good for you.

I just licked the inside of the bag of Organic Homemade Apple Cider Donuts. With sugar on top.

"I'm scared of Hillel."

I just ran away from a girl working at the 'Learn About Hillel' booth in the student center. The conversation went a little something like this...

My friend: "Hey Su, there's some stuff for you..."

I look over and see the Hillel booth.

Me, referring to the Birthright Israel sign on the booth: "Yeah, I already did Birthright Israel. When I was in college. The first time. About a thousand years ago."

Girl at Hillel booth, from about 15 feet away: "Really, do you live around here?"

Me, not realizing the danger I was about to put myself in: "Yeah, just around the corner."

Girl at booth: "Great! Well, you should come to the Shabbat dinner we're having tomorrow night; it's going to bring all the Jewish...

And at that point I zone out and wish I had said I lived in the next state instead of on the next street.

And so I interrupt: "Sorry...I'm scared of Hillel. I have to go."

Girl: "You think I'm scary?"

Me: "Yeah, kind of." And I run for the door, leaving my friends cracking up in the lobby, and the poor Booth Girl staring open-mouthed.

I'm not sure what it is about Hillel that doesn't sit right with me, but I've just never felt comfortable at one. Maybe it's the super-cheery attitude about being JEWISH, or the exclusivity and 'better-than-thou because I go to Hillel!' feeling I get from them.

Could it be my own insecurities instead of anything even remotely coming from them? Of course. But right now, I don't care. I've got other things that I need to deal with first.

I do want Judaism to be a part of my life; I plan on raising any kids I might have Jewish, but Hillel just isn't for me. It feels too clan-ish. It sounds silly, and I guess I can't really pinpoint where the animosity comes from, but I know it's one organization I'm not going to frequent.

Even if the dinner is free. And that's saying a lot, right?

(Running away is silly though. I need to stop that, if for no other reason than because I almost tripped on my way out the door; I'm not coordinated enough for escape exits. Plus, there is always the whole 'it's rude to walk away when someone is talking to you' thing, not to mention that running away from a Jewish girl in a pink sweater-vest is just lame. )

Working Hard (East Brunswick Road Races)

An All Time Low

Today, I stole toilet paper from the gym because I can't get myself to the store.

And I wore running shorts to teach Spinning because I can't get to the laundry-mat either.

I need a week off.

PS--There is a reason (probably more than one) we wear bike shorts; I definitely DO NOT recommend the running shorts solution. I would have been better off wearing a dirty pair of the biking variety. Although, I acknowledge that's really gross and I don't think I could bring myself to it, even if I was out of running shorts too...

The face that makes cousins laugh.

Retro-Punk

On the way out the door to play a concert

If you can save one man, you can save a world.

That's a line from a really sappy song I used to sing at Henry S. Jacobs camp for Southern Jews. (Notice I refrained from calling it 'Jew Camp', because that's not necessarily cool.)

This is off topic, but I just watched the video on the camp's website and totally got all teary from memories.

Anyway, on Thursday night I was feeling really gross from lack of exercise, eating too much, drinking too much, a cold, and everything else having to do with anything. I was teaching Spinning, feeling fat, and I was kind of crabby. (me, crabby??)

And then one person asked what classes I was teaching next semester because she wanted to figure out her schedule...and another came up to me and asked what kind of exercise I do on a regular basis because (ahem) 'you look really fit.'

And all of a sudden I felt fine, better than fine. I know it's silly to base your self-perception off of what anyone else says, but at the same time...it's just an important concept...to know that one little comment can make a difference in how another person feels.

And so, along with trying to post every day this month, I'm also going to try to give one compliment or nice comment that I would normally think but not necessarily say.

I know I'm one big Romantic Comedy with bad music, but what the hell...at least I know it!

Oh, and this morning I did my 20m run for the Philadelphia Marathon. I'm kind of sore, but all in all, it definitely could have been much worse. And you know what else? I had my shirt made and everything (from Running Banana; it's a cool store). It says: 'Today, I turn 26 and I'm running 26 miles." And on the back: "Run like a girl! Philadelphia Marathon November 18, 2007" I'm so glad I got the registration worked out or that shirt would have been kind of silly to have. And it's all about the shirt.

I'm gonna try...

The whole NaBloPoMo thing. I'm not even sure what it stands for...but I gather the idea is to post every day for a month. Be ready for some...um...boring posts?

I'm heading into New York for a rehearsal with my pianist.

For those of you who were wondering about how I got into Phili, it went something like this...(parenthetical explanations not included, except subliminally)...

"Dear Mr. Race Director, please PLEASE let me run. I'll do anything. I'll volunteer, I'll clean the streets afterwards, I'll sleep with you, I'll give you my firstborn, I'll babysit your children (in order from least-most horrifying in my mind). I JUST WANT TO RUN 26.2 MILES ON MY 26TH BIRTHDAY. Is that too much to ask? I forgot to register. I thought I had (a complete lie), but I just realized I hadn't. I'm so very sorry and I ask for your forgiveness and I BEG OF YOU...can you PLEASE LET ME RUN? Sincerely, Susanna Loewy"

And he just told me to send in my application; no personal favors required. I'm a little insulted he didn't want anything from me, but that's okay...I get to run. The stupid thing is that I had JUST followed the advice of the best-running-club-president-ever and signed up for the Half with the plan on continuing on to finish the whole, assuming that the chip would pick up the right race. In other words, I had just paid $90.

And I'm not going to waste $90. So, I mailed the application, a note asking to switch races, and the extra $15 the marathon costs. Worst that happens is that they can't switch it and I lose the $15 and end up having to stick with the original 50% bandit plan. And if that happens, and Gene is wrong and the chip registers me as running the half marathon in 4:00 and change, well...I'll just have to beat him up. It can't be that hard to catch him; he's barefoot, afterall...

Actually the worst that happens is that they screw everything up and I end up not registered for any race at all. But we're not going to think about that, right? Even in that case, it's not worth throwing away $90. That's almost the earnings of 4 spinning classes flushed down the toilet.

I've got to get practicing for my rehearsal. You guys are going to have to stop wasting my time!

YEAH!

Please mail an application and check TODAY (November 1). We will honor your registration if it is postmarked 11/01/07. We will not be opening any mail postmarked November 2 or later until after marathon weekend. We'll see you soon.

Philadelphia Marathon Committee