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Posts tagged as “running”

Staten Island Half Marathon- The “Short” Way

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The Mister and I at the start line corral at the NYRR Staten Island Half MarathonA week ago, my mister and I toed the line of the 2017 NYRR Staten Island Half Marathon. It was his second and my third- and my first with no extra distance before.

The Two Ways to Run the Staten Island Half

In my opinion-- and I think many veteran NYC Marathoners may agree with me-- there are two ways to approach this race:

The Regular Way- which means you add about 5 or 6 miles in about an hour before the Half start (to tick off another long training run just in time for the NYC Marathon)

The "Short" Way- the regular Staten Island Half Marathon.

The Race:

It began raining almost immediately, but since it felt about 30 degree warmer, it never came to resemble the hellscape of last year.

We were in a corral with the 9:30 pacer, which was contrary to our plan to do the first half at 10:00 m/p, but I was optimistic. I was (is) also convinced that the mister is in better shape than me, so if I felt fine then he definitely felt fine.

By the second half of the race, he was ready to NOT be going 9:30 and I was ready to find some bathrooms. I was very, very happy that he waited for me this year since I was running for my life last year to catch up with him after we parted due to a bathroom line.

Cold and Rainy Staten Island Half Marathon 2016

A couple of weeks ago, I lost my Favorite Running Hat Ever- the free NYRR volunteer hat that I got for free last year. So when we saw one in the middle of the road, around mile 10, and the mister said, "There you go, get that one," I actually turned around. Unfortunately, someone else had the same idea and beat me to it!

FLASHBACK PIC (right): Staten Island Half Marathon; cold, wet, with my favorite hat, wearing real shoes and a trash bag.

That was a great hat! (Note to the Universe: send that hat back to me!)

The rest of the Staten Island Half flew by, especially since I always feel more warmed after more than an hour of running and the miles slip by a little quicker. It is tough though, as anyone familiar with the course in recent years knows that it takes a turn into warehouse land limbo for a little bit at the end!

Takeaways:

All in all, a good race. The Mister PR'd by about 10 minutes! I missed the extra miles before the Half actually started and hope I can convince my Mister to resume the tradition with me next year, since we both will be prepping for the NYC Marathon that fall.

 

The Things That Came Back

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I will never forget,

the look in my best friends' eyes, when they were thinking back to their experience aboard that boat and even though they appeared as if they were next to me, I knew they were lost back in the endless expanse of sea or smelling the spices of the last country or the country before it.

I tried to chase the traces of the memories, but they had evaporated around me and we never have shared memories of class before ports or dishes of food you just had to be there to even know existed.

And I wondered how such an exhilarating adventure had left them haunted.

Then I found my own adventure. And fear and anxiety and expectation was replaced by joy and adrenaline and certainty and peace. Pain and pleasure pulled me from sleep and sleep called me back just as frustration began to poke at the scale and tamper with the order of things- all things.

All things had order, the hour of sunset and the misty consistency of dawn, the chill that set in at the heart of each evening that deepened into tangible dew until it thickened the humidity percolating in the air and announced day was upon us (in case we had missed the sun itself).

Who could miss the sun? It governed us sternly, sent us scattering like animals more aware of their own instincts than ourselves. But even sometimes, we braved her still -the way a man pets a tiger or slices a pufferfish- carefully.

Sometimes your body is not your own; this was not one of those times.

I could not tell you whether we walked through our own dreams or swam through the air, so thick with humidity we wondered if it could suffocate; somehow it was the same thing.

I thought I would learn one type of lesson; instead I learned others- more dire and pertinent than could have ever been dreamed up by my own ego.

I can't bring my whole mind back... it aches and pulls to retrace the steps along that white line. Maybe, somehow, a part of me haunts it too.