raced
I wrote this last weekend and didn't post it. But people have been asking how the half-marathon went, so here you go. Don't read if you're not interested in self-indulgent navel-gazing accounts of athletic pursuits!
Ten thoughts from my first half-marathon:
1. Thank God it's sunny today. But it's still goddamn cold in the wind at Brighton Beach at seven a.m. God, why am I awake this early?
2. Running the first two miles up and down the boardwalk at Coney Island is charming and scenic, and the wood is nicely springy underfoot. But also treacherous (I saw several people trip and fall, hard.)
3. Ocean Parkway is boring. Miles and miles of boring.
4. Ow. Ow! I need to buy better running shoes if I am going to keep doing this. My joints are remarkably tolerant of all the crap I put them through (thankfully there's not too much of me, which helps) and I should really return the favor.
5. One of the advantages of long races is that you're often surrounded by people with rather nice legs (and other attributes) wearing very revealing clothing. When you start to hurt/get tired, you can enjoy the view as a means of distracting yourself.
6. WOO-HOO Y'ALL it's THE PARK!
7. Hey, I can run faster than this. And faster than all of you people around me!
8. You know, I'm not going to drink this cup of water, I'm just going to pour it over my head.
9. I'm so happy right now! I could keep running forever! (aren't neuropeptides marvelous?)
10. That was so fucking awesome. I want to do it again and again and again.
I wasn't aiming for a "goal" time--just to finish. In general, I have only two goals for races of whatever sort: No stopping, and no puking. Successful on both counts, alhamdulillah. This time I was actually too cautious--I paced myself too slowly after the start and for the first 2/3 or so. When we finally reached Prospect Park the endorphins kicked in & I got very excited (see above) and was happy to be on home ground, so I started to accelerate noticably. I spent the last four miles passing people on all sides (and I'm competitive enough to admit that I enjoyed that....) If I was reading the timers at the mile-marks correctly, I actually did a seven-and-a-half minute mile somewhere near the end. The last 3 or so miles were just sheer delight: one of the best runner's highs I've ever had. I felt like I was flying. Running across the Bosphorus Bridge was only just a little more marvelous than this.
Time: a little over 1:50. That's about 5 minutes more than my prior 15K time would predict, but eh, I was a year and a half younger then, and fresh from three years of rowing. After six months of lassitude and only four weeks' training (and that interrupted by weather and sickness) that's good enough to make me happy. Next time I'll be below 1:45.
Soundtrack (I know, I know, purists disdain the use of headphones. But I do this for fun, and music makes it moreso.) Started and finished with Vusi Mahlasela (this race was all about Vusi, really, mostly tracks from his new album Guiding Star). In between: Rachid Taha; a little bit of Ani; hiphop from South Africa (Zola), Turkey (Ceza and Sultana), and Palestine (DAM feat. Abir el-Zinati); Tarkan and assorted cheesy Turkpop; Kiran Ahluwalia ("Jhangra" especially); The Postal Service; Paul Simon (the live version of "The Coast" has been one of my top running songs since I was fourteen); some gospel; Say Anything; The Poozies; a song or two from this Christian singer-songwriter CD my little sister sent me; Cat Stevens; Rabbi Shergill ("Bulla ki jaana" is perfect for pacing, thank you A.); Talking Heads; Everclear; Shakira; and, um, "Kajra Re" on repeat several times (that one is Buchu's fault only). See, this is why people look at my iTunes and start diagnosing me with spurious disorders.
Afterwards, I laid down on the grass, drank some Gatorade, then promptly got up and walked another mile home, gnawing on my free bagel (recovered too quickly--more evidence I could have done it faster). Many friends came and we went to brunch at Rosewater and ate waffles and lots of delicious bacon. Then I slept, got a haircut, bought an overpriced but adorable jacket at Brooklyn Industries, ate more, and went dancing at Cattyshack with half of my New York posse. (Verdict on DJ Rekha's Lipstick Optional: great music, great crowd, but just too many people for Cattyshack. Bhangra's no fun if you can barely move, and other people's elbows are in your face.) So the day that started with a six-fifteen alarm and a dawn sprint to the subway ended around one a.m., with sore-but-happy feet dancing 'til they gave out, and then a quiet walk home in the first light rain of a recordbreaking storm.
Ten thoughts from my first half-marathon:
1. Thank God it's sunny today. But it's still goddamn cold in the wind at Brighton Beach at seven a.m. God, why am I awake this early?
2. Running the first two miles up and down the boardwalk at Coney Island is charming and scenic, and the wood is nicely springy underfoot. But also treacherous (I saw several people trip and fall, hard.)
3. Ocean Parkway is boring. Miles and miles of boring.
4. Ow. Ow! I need to buy better running shoes if I am going to keep doing this. My joints are remarkably tolerant of all the crap I put them through (thankfully there's not too much of me, which helps) and I should really return the favor.
5. One of the advantages of long races is that you're often surrounded by people with rather nice legs (and other attributes) wearing very revealing clothing. When you start to hurt/get tired, you can enjoy the view as a means of distracting yourself.
6. WOO-HOO Y'ALL it's THE PARK!
7. Hey, I can run faster than this. And faster than all of you people around me!
8. You know, I'm not going to drink this cup of water, I'm just going to pour it over my head.
9. I'm so happy right now! I could keep running forever! (aren't neuropeptides marvelous?)
10. That was so fucking awesome. I want to do it again and again and again.
I wasn't aiming for a "goal" time--just to finish. In general, I have only two goals for races of whatever sort: No stopping, and no puking. Successful on both counts, alhamdulillah. This time I was actually too cautious--I paced myself too slowly after the start and for the first 2/3 or so. When we finally reached Prospect Park the endorphins kicked in & I got very excited (see above) and was happy to be on home ground, so I started to accelerate noticably. I spent the last four miles passing people on all sides (and I'm competitive enough to admit that I enjoyed that....) If I was reading the timers at the mile-marks correctly, I actually did a seven-and-a-half minute mile somewhere near the end. The last 3 or so miles were just sheer delight: one of the best runner's highs I've ever had. I felt like I was flying. Running across the Bosphorus Bridge was only just a little more marvelous than this.
Time: a little over 1:50. That's about 5 minutes more than my prior 15K time would predict, but eh, I was a year and a half younger then, and fresh from three years of rowing. After six months of lassitude and only four weeks' training (and that interrupted by weather and sickness) that's good enough to make me happy. Next time I'll be below 1:45.
Soundtrack (I know, I know, purists disdain the use of headphones. But I do this for fun, and music makes it moreso.) Started and finished with Vusi Mahlasela (this race was all about Vusi, really, mostly tracks from his new album Guiding Star). In between: Rachid Taha; a little bit of Ani; hiphop from South Africa (Zola), Turkey (Ceza and Sultana), and Palestine (DAM feat. Abir el-Zinati); Tarkan and assorted cheesy Turkpop; Kiran Ahluwalia ("Jhangra" especially); The Postal Service; Paul Simon (the live version of "The Coast" has been one of my top running songs since I was fourteen); some gospel; Say Anything; The Poozies; a song or two from this Christian singer-songwriter CD my little sister sent me; Cat Stevens; Rabbi Shergill ("Bulla ki jaana" is perfect for pacing, thank you A.); Talking Heads; Everclear; Shakira; and, um, "Kajra Re" on repeat several times (that one is Buchu's fault only). See, this is why people look at my iTunes and start diagnosing me with spurious disorders.
Afterwards, I laid down on the grass, drank some Gatorade, then promptly got up and walked another mile home, gnawing on my free bagel (recovered too quickly--more evidence I could have done it faster). Many friends came and we went to brunch at Rosewater and ate waffles and lots of delicious bacon. Then I slept, got a haircut, bought an overpriced but adorable jacket at Brooklyn Industries, ate more, and went dancing at Cattyshack with half of my New York posse. (Verdict on DJ Rekha's Lipstick Optional: great music, great crowd, but just too many people for Cattyshack. Bhangra's no fun if you can barely move, and other people's elbows are in your face.) So the day that started with a six-fifteen alarm and a dawn sprint to the subway ended around one a.m., with sore-but-happy feet dancing 'til they gave out, and then a quiet walk home in the first light rain of a recordbreaking storm.
posted by kitabet at 10:59 PM
2 Comments:
Congratulations! It's good to be alive in the body.
And we clearly need to do some music exchange.
This also reminds me: I haven't listened to Rabbi Shergill in months.
thanks, teju, and yes, it is. sitting at a desk all day is a woeful thing.
i have a feeling that i will be far more the beneficiary of any music exchange with your collection, but i'm certainly keen for it!
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