Recovering Runner Eats too many Chipotle Burritos, Forced to Pound Pavement Once Again

I've been running lately. I hate running. HATE it. But, I gained some weight this past year, and I'm forcing myself to run 25 miles a week until my clothes start to fit right again.

Mostly, it is just so boring. But I do love to be outside, and running is a pretty efficient way to get exercise. So I do it. It would seem that running would be a good time to work out my problems in my head or otherwise keep myself entertained, as it is one of the only times in the day when I'm really alone and with nothing better to do. This does not happen. There is something about the repetitiveness of running, I'm not sure, I can't get myself to concentrate on any one thing for very long. I do enjoy listening to music when I run, but my little MP3-player-thingy broke, and I haven't purchased a new one. I thought maybe I should get some language tapes or something. I'm sure I could pick up a little walkman for around twenty bucks.

One thing that I do when I run is try to list all of the things that I hate more than running. This doesn't take very long. (Exams, being cold, waking up thirsty, cleaning the bathroom, digging holes in the backyard). Then I try to think about fun times I've had running. Actually, there have been good times. When Misti, Tonya, and I were training for the marathon, we usually ran together, which made the run more tolerable. Tonya is a great running buddy, always game for the early a.m. runs. We even roped Firooz into a couple of runs. Firooz is hilarious. He's a friend from my sophomore year of college, who I keep in touch with very sporadically and we seem to call each other just on random occasions. The last time I spoke to him was about five months ago, I was trying to get him to go to Scott & Beth's disco party with me (he's the only person I know with a real 'fro wig). He said he'd call me back and he never did. About four months prior, I showed up at a party his fraternity was throwing at the U (he's a law student, one year ahead of me). I probably hadn't spoken to him in about a year before that. He introduced me to everyone at the party as his best friend. Anyhoo, Tonya and I called him at the last minute one day to go on a 4:30 a.m. run with us (We needed to get 18 miles in before work that day), and he was like oh, sure, pick me up at 4:15. And he ran the whole damn thing even though he is not really a runner--that is, I don't think he runs unless we call him. Miles 16-18 he sang the whole way. That's Firooz, always game. But HOW does he do that?

I also think about the marathon itself. I never could have done it but for all the friends who jumped in to run with me. The day of the run, we left Misti behind right away (she was injured), and Tonya and I ran about the first half together. Adam jumped in at Mile 3, with the idea of running six miles with me even though he was hung over, and I don't think he had slept. Well, he had made a T-shirt that said "Go Anna!" so everyone was cheering for me as we ran, and I felt like a celebrity. Well, Adam hadn't arranged a ride back for himself, so when my mom and aunt Ann jumped in at mile 9, he just kept running. Mom and Ann jumped out at mile 12, and Danni and Samia were going to pick me up, but they weren't there, so Adam just kept going, to keep me company. Turns out Danni and Samia WERE there, but they missed me, so they ended up having to sprint a mile to catch up with me. Those girls are beautiful (Danni is a model) and were dressed all in black, as was Adam, so I was feeling like I was being escorted by the secret service or something. Plus they were all really hyper and getting the crowd to cheer and everything. How could I not have fun? At around mile 18, Adam finally jumped out (!!!), having found a bus that could take him home. He took off the Go Anna shirt, which was given to Amy, who jumped in at mile 20. Well, Amy put the shirt on inside out. The inside of the shirt said simply in white letters: "FUCK COLEMAN." Bah-HAH! Though the sentiment ring true, there were kids around, after all. She quickly flipped it back around. So, still plugging along, and getting tired by mile 21. I was not having as much fun anymore. Since we were finally in St. Paul, I thought it would be over any minute. But that last 5 miles were like 10 miles each. It was hell. My mom and Ann jumped in again near the end, and by that time I was dragging. Danni and Samia wouldn't let me stop to walk. I ran the whole way (except the rest stops). The best feeling is seeing Wellstone's bus and knowing you really are almost done. My goal was to run the thing at 4 hours 50 minutes. I came in at 4:45. When I stepped across the finish line, my first thought was: "Who would ever do that twice?" Turns out people do. Lunatics.