Running out of steam

There was a time when running four miles on tired, cramped legs didn't seem all that big a deal. After all, I'd already run 14 miles that morning.

I'm just saying.

Because today I saw girl collapse in a near faint on her kitchen floor after running for a grand total of about 50 minutes.

And that girl? Was me.

{{{{cringe}}}}

As I mentioned in my last post, I'm training for a half marathon. It's not until March or so (not sure of the exact date) so I have plenty of time. Which is good, because I'm going to need it.

Pape Badji, my friend, running buddy, and (sort of) coach keeps me honest and keeps me running. We run together about 4 times a week, and he's recently recruited his cousin, Matar, to the cause, who runs with us sometimes, and also runs with me on days when Badji has work.

Which means that I barely have to motivate myself out the door, because there's pretty much always someone waiting for me. Someone who keeps me company, as well as protecting me from crazy drivers (not so necessary, but nice) and from scary spiders (mostly by laughing at me while I dash across the street to avoid coming within two feet of one of their web mansions).

But until this morning, our runs have averaged 30-35 minutes. Which, you can imagine, means the distance falls somewhat short of a full half-marathon. So today I determined we were going to run for an hour. And, instead of running in the evening, as has been our habit, we were going to run in the morning.

I prepared very well for this "long" run last night, by eating almost nothing for dinner, capping off a day when pretty much all I'd eaten was a banana, a bowl of cereal, and some white rice (with a bit of peanut butter stew).

And so I couldn't claim to be surprised when my legs felt leaden and I had no energy. I also cleverly chose not to bring any water or gatorade on the run.

Because apparently, I forget quickly, and need to relearn every lesson the hard way. Every. Single. Time.

Here's the best part, though. As I was pathetically flailing and simpering, Badji was chipper, encouraging, and, clearly, hardly even winded. This, despite the fact that he hadn't slept that night, because he had the night shift at his guard job.

Cool.

Anyway, we're going to try again tomorrow. I going to eat well today, including pasta with tomato-zucchini sauce for dinner, and, inshallah, I will perform more respectably.

In other news: Someone has determined to make this month "NaBloPoMo". Which stands for National Blog Posting Month. Like NaNoWriMo. National Novel Writing Month.

Okay, I know. Normal people have never heard of any of those things. But here's the deal. During the month of November, if you sign up for NaBloPoMo, you have to post at least once a day.

And because I like jumping on bandwagons, and lots of blogs that I respect seem to be doing it, and if they jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge then it must be because it's FUN dammit... Well, because of all that, I'm gonna try it too.

So check back often, and see how boring I can be (on a daily basis!) for the next 30 days.