Running to Stop the Runs - Week 1, Part 1 - Am I Really Doing This?

So, I'm almost done setting up my email list to ask every moderate acquaintance I've ever emailed about anything ever to give me money to fly to Miami. And I don't feel guilty at all. Seriously, this cause is awesome and I'm excited to raise some funds.

But potential monetary gain aside, earlier this week I got an email from "Kimmy," the perky, blonde, french-manicured event organizer for the CCFA's NYC chapter that said my coach would be emailing about the first team run on Saturday. While the likelihood of a Saturday morning hangover might've limited my will to participate in this first run, it was, after all, the first run. So, if I was going to do at least one, I was seriously considering number one (as opposed to number two - yay poop jokes!). That is until I never heard anything from the coach. Nothing. It's like I didn't exist. Coach McNeglect might've gotten my email wrong though - Kimmy did mess up my address when she registered me (everyone always forgets the underscore) - but in my fragile, lazy state, it doesn't take much for me to fall off a wagon I have yet to jump on. I haven't mentioned this to Kimmy yet, but rest assured, she will be receiving a cheerful, inquisitive, passive-aggressive email this week.

So I said eff-you CCForgetfulA, and did my 30 minute run on my own. Then I did the second workout on Sunday as directed, a 45 minute run. And, dare I say, I dominated. I've been running off and on for a half hour for awhile now anyway, so I shouldn't be surprised that the 45er wasn't that hard, but seriously, I felt awesome. And I have never felt that good on that long of a run ever. Like, seriously, ever. Yes, I walked two or three times, but one of them was uphill, and I still covered 4.2 miles, so I'm feeling pretty damn good. Today is a rest day and the rest of the week I'm "personalizing" because I have a weirdo shoot schedule but, don't worry, I'm getting my shit done. We'll see how the rest of the week goes because right now my legs are a little too sore from dominating. Viva la Crohn's.

Running to Stop the Runs - Preseason Part 2 - Cheerleaders and Fundraisers

So, after attending my fabulous CCFA half-effing-marathon meeting, I got the real scoop. In order for CCFA to train me, fly me to Miami (where the race is actually taking place), hotel me up in said race locale, and "cover" my race fees, I have to raise a grand whopping total of $3700. That's thirty-seven hundred effing dollars, for those of you who prefer your numbers qualitative form. When I ran a CCFA 5k - for which I spent almost two months training so that I could actually run 3 miles without stopping - I raised $1700. That was pretty sweet and I was proud of it, but that's not even half of what I need for this one. Sweet Baby Jesus, I'm gonna have to throw a party.

The other thing about the meeting that irked me, was something I expected. I've had friends who've done the whole Team in Training, etc, charity run circuit, so I knew the whole "yay morale, you can do it!!!!" factor would be omnipresent. Now, obviously I have nothing against cheerleaders, but if I'm already psyched to do something, or if I'm volunteering for 16 weeks of labor-intensive physical activity, I do not need exclamation points. I'm signing up for the freaking race, you don't need to be all perky PR to convince me. But, I am NOT running at 7am on Saturdays.

Which leads me to my next point - the workout. It doesn't look too bad, pretty typical for these kinds of races. I'll be running 4-5 days a week for incrementally increasing amounts of time. Of course, the downside is that the only team workouts are, like I said, Saturday morning at 7am. I like drinking on Fridays way too much to let this stop me, so it looks like I'll be running on my own.

Running to Stop the Runs - Preseason Part 1

I am not a runner.  I am a sprinter.  The difference is vast.  The thought of anything over 200 meters makes me nauseous, not to mention winded.  Even a 200 is a little too long for me.  So why the hell did I sign up for an effing half marathon?

Here's the deal.  To condense a long, fairly common story - I miss physical competition.  Since graduation, I've struggled to find something I enjoy as much as track that I can actually compete at.  Sadly, there are no pick-up track meets.  Coaching doesn't exactly fill the void, and I really just straight up miss having something to train for, achieving a goal and, of course, winning. 

Marathons, and any other kind of road running, are a seemingly natural progression for the retired NCAA athlete.  It's one of the few athletic events that not only satiates that competitive drive, but is also pretty accessible to anyone with a pair of trainers and sadistic tendencies.  Goal - Check.  Training Program - Check.  Kick Ass Sense of Accomplishment - Check.  Crippling Guilt if You Don't Accomplish Said Goal - Double Check.  And for the record, this is a predominantly American phenomenon.  In Europe and the Caribbean, where they appreciate their track stars, pick-up track meets actually exist.

And now I'm way off topic.  The second, and most important reason that I'm running 13.1 effing miles (I'm really not at the point yet where I can quote the race distance without the "effing" qualifier), is because of the cause - The Crohn's and Colitis Foundation of America.  Yes, I'm doing a cheesy team half-effing-marathon, but I wouldn't be doing it for any other cause.  My dad and two of my cousins suffer from Crohn's, and I know first hand what a shitty (pun absolutely intended) disease it is.  I've witnessed the surgeries, the toilet lockdowns and the threat of colostomy bags, and know enough to know that we don't know enough about this disease to be close to a cure.  If I can get off my ass and run 13 effing miles to fund research so that these people don't have to deal with this shit (again, pun absolutely intended) anymore, then that's what I'm going to effing do.