Oh what a September!

Oh what a September!

This month I was blessed with a new Jewish soul which included the commitment of observing many holy days in which relaxation and ingesting large amounts of food is an obligation. :) This did not necessarily make my marathon training easier.

One day, the wind off the Hudson snatched my cash out of my pocket and quickly took it for a ride, which forced me to skitter around chasing it while trying to hold Gatorade, water, an ipod and a cell phone. I caught the money. Seven dollars is a lot to a starving artist.

Another day, some precious school children decided to yell at me from their bus and make mean kid faces. My impulse reaction was to scream profanities and use that special finger. Alas, my new Jewish soul alerted me that it was not such a good idea to express myself in that way, especially while wearing a skirt and looking like such a proper lady.

Yet another day, an old white-haired man walked towards me with a goofy expression on his face while he jostled his arms up and down, clearly mocking my jogging technique. I was not amused, but because I am a lady in a skirt...I did not yell at him. Later that day, a distracted dog owner allowed his small creature to attack my leg, after which I threw my arms up and yelled "Seriously!". I believe that expression was appropriate at the time. Small dogs should be in purses.

Those encounters were during my short runs. Currently, the long runs are so long that after I finish I can barely remember my name (both Giselle and Maytal depending on the time of day)...let alone some weird encounter. The point is that I actually finish the long runs and I HAVE NO IDEA HOW. Seriously. My mind and body enjoy running NO MORE than a half marathon, 13.1 miles. Once I get past this point, my mind does not like to analyze dreams, design wedding dresses, write pep talk poetry, reminisce about my youth or organize lesson plans. It wants to sleep. My body starts to scream and fight back like a toddler throwing herself against the wall during a tantrum. Yet somehow I am able to keep going. Maybe its the caffeine jelly beans or this mysterious goo substance, or maybe it is my new Jewish soul reminding me that I can do anything with a little help from G-d and a water bottle.

9 miles later and the skirt is getting on my nerves

Yep. I said it. The SKIRT is getting on my nerves. Along with the music on my ipod, my lack of hydration skills, and my inability to eat the right food at the right time. 9 miles around central park in 85 degree weather does not work well with a dehydrated freak with unecessary amounts of stretchy material around her legs.

Check out the play-by-play:

Mile 6- The skirt and I love each other...like Sonny and Cher. I am sporting the skirt like a super hot (sweaty) but frum (modest) supermodel.
Mile 7- The skirt isn't giving me enough space and there is tension between us. I scowl at the skirt then lift it up a bit to let my knees breathe. I cool down 10 extra degrees...not fair. I look like I am getting ready for ballroom dancing, so I let go.
Mile 8- My knees really really need to breathe, heck my thighs need to breathe, so I hold up the darn skirt and imagine I am jogging towards prince charming or Mark Ruffalo. A few seconds later, this gets really annoying and I angrily throw the skirt down.
Mile 9- The anger caused by the skirt is upstaged by my extreme dehydration and the completion of my longest run in two years. I buy overpriced gatorade from a stand man and walk one more mile because I worry that if I stop moving, I might never move again.

So the skirt is pretty annoying sometimes and it is possibly a few inches longer than necessary. My legs need to breathe a bit more. I think my next skirt will need to be a bit shorter. No...not sassy tennis mom short but just not so super frum long.

As time goes by, I am adjusting to all the changes in my life...from joining the morning people club to changes in my wardrobe.
I am learning to constantly refocus myself towards the important things in life.
Like drinking water and smiling at other runners, especially if they are running in a skirt.

Morning People

Two weeks ago I started my official marathon training paired with an exciting/exhausting teaching job at a summer camp.

Thus, I have joined the Morning People club. In the runners division of this club we like to eat large amounts of bread and pasta each night so we can make it through a 530AM long run. We also enjoy going to bed at 8/9PM...yeah...it is not even dark yet. Sometimes we even run without an ipod because the music is too much stimulation for the peaceful early morning hours. We must drink a single cup of strong coffee in the late morning (8am) no more, no less and we must have A LOT of water throughout the day. We also need to pee a lot. To join this club you need a lot of motivation and discipline mixed with a chill attitude. You must think..."Oh its only 530am. Thats not early at all, the wild suburban bunnies are just finishing up their day!" or "Oh it isn't even night and I want to go to sleep...wow I am cooler than a frog on a lily pad." You have to make friends with carbs even though they have a bad reputation, and make sure to drink water until your pee is clear.

I like the runners division of the morning people club. During my college years, I was in the "feed grumpy commuters coffee and get paid minimum wage" division, which was definitely a grande nightmare with extra whip. In the past I have also been in the "drive to a town you never heard of, set up a giant peach or forest and run around like a freak to entertain children" division...which was...um...fun...sometimes. A good division of the Morning People club is hard to come by.

Everyone should try out the Morning People club, I recommend the runners or walkers division. You will either fall in love with it or become a semi chubby anti-social obsessive machine. Right now I am in between...one can only hope that I am secretly slowly falling in love...

Skirt in the suburbs-Part 3: foot issues

Have you ever given up on something before you even began? I have four days until I have to start officially training for the marathon and I am already ready to give up. Pathetic. I blame it on my legs, more specifically my feet and knees.

I am afraid of shoes. Last week I wore a cheap pair of shoes (that I had worn before and never had issues with) and my feet started hurting. Later that day, the minor foot pain rapidly turned into a full-blown injury with limping and crying. A week later, I am still nursing the remnants of the foot injury with intense soreness and additional pain in my ankle and knee.

All because of cheap shoes?! Everyone always says "Wear good shoes!!". What does that even mean? Most "good" shoes are ugly and expensive. If anything, I could turn into sporty spice and wear my running shoes and skirt 24/7 but I don't think people would appreaciate the smell of stale sweat as much as I appreciate functioning feet. I simply do not want to go find "good shoes", mainly because I can't afford them and also because I really have way too many shoes already. So fine, I will try to wear my "best" shoes...rather than the cute cheap ones made by underpaid small children or old people in India.

So after the shoe fiasco, some rest, and A LOT of ice and pain killers...I am back on my feet (my sore feet) again. I went for three runs this week and during each one I realized that I simply can not give up before I even start.

Run #1: I went running on the boardwalk at the beach on memorial day weekend...late afternoon in the burning hot sun. Memorial day weekend at the beach = thousands of people strolling along on the boardwalk at the same time. I spent my entire run speedily dodging babies with ice cream, hot pink sun burnt teenagers and half naked hairy old men. In my long skirt of course. At the beach, people run in bikinis, not in snow suits.
I can do anything, in any temperature, with any amount of people getting in my way.

Run #2: I went running at noon. The sun is at its hottest at noon so I wore a tee shirt and I liked it. No one looked at my upper arms or elbows, thank G-d. This must mean that I can do anything.

Run #3: It was hot again, almost 90 degrees out and I survived to write this blog. I was nauseous and dehydrated. And my foot still sorta hurts. (Yes next time I will drink water and stretch in advance, thanks mom) I am pretty sure now that I can do anything. (with G-d's help of course :) )

So it turns out that the training program is 20 weeks and I counted wrong. My training officially starts the last week of June. So rest up little feet, soon it will be time to conquer the world...one step at a time.

skirt in the suburbs-Part 2: uneven sidewalks

Last week I "bit it". I was experiencing one of my most energetic runs, bopping along to some pop song and feeling the warm breeze on my face...until suddenly I went... CRASH. BANG. UM... OUCH. That is...I tripped on a small piece of uneven sidewalk and went flying into the air, skid across the sidewalk and flipped over back onto my feet. My Indestructible self continued jogging until I realized that my knee was gushing blood and my entire right side was throbbing with extreme pain. I immediately stopped and sat down on a patch of grass. The events happened pretty far from my living quarters in this random area of the neighboring town, and thank G-d I actually had my cell phone snugly packed in my nifty skirt pocket. First I was furious that I wouldn't complete my mileage goal for the week and second, I was sort of stranded. Mind you this happened on a main road, right near an intersection. Did any one stop to help me? Yes, ONE PERSON, and guess where he was from? FLORIDA. Of course, in other states, people actually stop to help strangers. I sat there feeling very uncomfortable that my knee was laying there naked gushing with blood, but I had to hold up the skirt a bit to keep it from getting soaked. The skirt does have short leggings underneath, but still...I must cover my knees at all times. That’s why I wear the darn skirt in the first place. If we cover our knees because they are supposedly attractive, then at least a bleeding knee is somewhat less attractive and maybe no one would care? The Florida dude wanted to help but I firmly shoo-ed him away by reassuring him that someone was coming to help me. I did not want him to see my naked bleeding knee.

Its amazing how one minute you can be bopping along havin' a grand ole' time and the next minute you are moping about your ugly naked knee.

An uneven sidewalk is just two chunks of cement that no longer meet together to make one surface.

They exist everywhere. People get divorced because they no longer fit together; they aren't willing to fix themselves to make the two pieces one surface again. Relationships can come to a huge CRASH. BANG. UM...OUCH, if the uneven sidewalk isn't fixed. Either we regularly neglect fixing the uneven sidewalks or they are just part of the natural order of things. Maybe they will always exist and you just have to pay attention to them, work around them.

You can always learn something from an uneven sidewalk. I learned to pay attention to details, to beware of becoming overly confident, and to relax and appreciate my knees. (In case you were worried, I have "bounced back"...my knee is fine now, just some scabs and bruises. It might take me awhile to stop staring at the sidewalk with extreme paranoia...soon I might crash into a mailbox or something...)

skirt in the suburbs-Part 1: Automobiles

"Jaywalking" or "Jayrunning" in the suburbs is not a good idea. It does not matter if you are wearing pants, a skirt, or a clown suit. In the suburbs, cars rule and pedestrians drool...as they will most often land in a pile of mud. I have definitely noticed that the sidewalks and dirt paths in Northern Jersey are huge upgrade from the routes I took during my random Midwest suburban town runs. Around here, I probably wont be attacked by a large dog, cow, or pickup-truck. School bus, maybe, but I probably have a higher chance of tripping on uneven pavement or crashing into a small child on a tricycle.

My new found running partnership with automobiles is very fascinating. The smaller neighborhood streets are scarce of moving vehicles but there are always parked ones, big lumps of metal just taking up space. Most of the time, I try to imagine they are trees.

Sometimes I wonder why a vehicle is parked in that specific place at that specific time, and from sheer running boredom...
I create stories about the people who depend on these vehicles for their livelihood.
I imagine the blue minivan is parked on the street in front of an empty driveway at 8AM because the mother who leads the carpool finds it easier to get out in the morning from street parking. This mother spends so much time dragging her kids out of bed while making breakfast and planning the school fundraiser, that the thought of backing out of her driveway blindly into traffic gives her a migraine. I imagine that the black BMW with leather seats is in the driveway at 12PM because the Doctor that drives it...comes home to have lunch with his wife every day. He is 85 and still sees patients, he has been having lunch with his wife everyday for 60 years. I imagine the old sedan parked crookedly in a driveway at 5PM, is driven by that kid that still lives at home and struggles with a full-time job and a full schedule of classes, the car is there because he has exactly five minutes to change out of his uniform and rush to evening classes at the local community college. Finally, I imagine the cars that just sit in the driveways and on the streets all day and night, rarely moving...the cars that are a permanent part of the scenery. They are no longer needed and aren't able to get beyond the block unless someone is inspired to move them.

People are like cars. Some people take the most convenient route, some people go out of their way for others, some people rush from here to there, and some people just sit...and rarely leave their block.

I am a car on the main road, always moving, always going somewhere in a hurry with a purpose. Pushing my way through traffic, sometimes driving through a red light or swerving around a pedestrian.

Looking at the variety of cars while I run helps me remember - in life, it is important to slow down and stop in the right place at the right time. Its also important to always be aware of your surroundings, because you never know when someone will swerve around the corner and force you into the nearest puddle...skirt and all.

skirt in the snow

The snow storm definitely placed a road block (literally) in the rejuvenation process of my daily running. Today I looked out the window and saw piles of snow, slush, and ice gleaming in the sunlight. I also saw pieces of sidewalk and road peeking out from underneath all this stuff, and thought "there is hope for me and my run today". I leaped over patches of snow, jumped into puddles of slush and sprinted under scaffolding with melting snow. Crossing Broadway was rough, with loads of cars trying to speed around a car accident-splashing slush all over the unfortunate pedestrians. My skirt did not get one speck of dirt on it. :)

There are a few things to beware of when running in a skirt in the aftermath of a blizzard:

1. Large puddles of slush, you can only leap so far...
2. Skinny intense upperwestside chicks that SPRINT directly into you, expecting YOU (the slowpoke) to dodge THEM (the crazy).
3. Dogs. They are unpredictable.


The leftover snow is a very good obstacle course for strengthening mind-leg coordination. I do agree that pure white snow is much more beautiful than cement, but I know that without the cement we wouldn't be able to appreciate the snow.
Melt snow melt, I am ready for spring.

the skirt makes its debut

I ran five whole miles in the skirt today. Now...I don't run five miles on a regular basis, I run 3-4 miles- 5 days a week.
I think this skirt has super-powers. Somehow it didn't feel any different than pants, except maybe a feeling of extra material near my knees and fear of tripping while running up steep steps.
The fear was simply paranoia, because the only way I could trip in that skirt would be:
A. If I had to go up very very steep steps...like 2 feet high steps...no one in the right mind will "run" up steps like that.
B. If a small child swerves his bicycle directly in front of me.
C. If I lose my mind and despite extreme weather conditions go for a 9 mile run in central park.

Of course, the entire time I was overly conscious of the people looking at me and wondering what they were thinking...living in Harlem, I assumed that the usual characters would shout their normal high-spirited support: "run girl run" or "yeah baby" or "run an extra mile for me honey" -Either they are in hibernation because it is so darn cold, or...the skirt has super-powers.
Every time I passed some skinny intense upperwestside chick in her matching spandex and cute hat...I thought "You may think you are cuter than me but...I am running in a skirt."

So it was no big deal, and I actually quite enjoyed it. Maybe next week the skirt will use its super-powers one day to help me run SIX miles.

the skirt has arrived

For those of you who thought I couldn't do it...well...I am doing it.

Running in a skirt.

Technically I just received my first running skirt in the mail and only ran/frolicked around my small Manhattan bedroom for a distance of approximately .001 miles...but tonight officially marks the beginning of my relationship with "the running skirt". Why would I run in a skirt, you ask? Well, why do you run in pants? Seriously, why do people even run at all? No one says: "For a good time call...just kidding, don't call anyone...go for a run!" No one says that.

Sometimes I go running for a good time, and sometimes I go running just to fight with the road. I run because I am addicted. I have been addicted for ten years. Ever since my long runs with hormonal teenagers in the wild forests of Oregon, I have been captivated by running. (The sport in school is called "cross country" You don't have to "try out" for it (Thank G-d), and even people with a 20 minute mile can be on a school team.)

I run because the adrenaline rush and rhythmic breathing cannot be found anywhere else. Its therapeutic and relaxing, yet nerve-racking and painful, all at the same time. The spiritual experience of long- distance running is unexplainable.

Yet, why run in a skirt? And not just any skirt, one that falls below my knees? Because when I decide to do something, I do it. I accept it fully with every prospective challenge and triumph. Thus begins my journey towards the 2010 NYC Marathon, running in a skirt.