Tag Archives: chicago

101 in 1001: [no. 03] run a four-hour marathon

October 11, 2009 — Chicago Marathon 2009: 3:59’01”

Okay, so I started running three and a half years ago. In May of 2006 I decided I’d train for a half marathon. the goal was just to complete it. I started out with a run-one-min-walk-one-min plan for 30 minutes at a time, three times a week. It took me 6 weeks to get up to being able to run 3 miles in a half hour.

Since then I’m four running seasons, 2600 miles, eight pairs of shoes, seven half marathons and three full marathons down the road. And I know that dry wit and self-deprecating humor is basically all that keeps this blog afloat, but i’m going to get all sincere for a minute and say that I’m really proud of that. I just am, okay? I fully recognize, and embrace, the fact that i’m a decidedly middle-of-the-pack, recreational runner. i’m never going to be anything besides that. But these miles, these races were not easy for me. The things these miles lead me to, and away from, in my life, were not easy. But I am so blessed, so fortunate, so lucky (is there a word there that’s both secular in connotation and yet as sincere as “blessed”? i can’t find it) that i found running, or running found me, when it did. It’s taught me how to break insurmountable tasks into tiny, achievable blocks. If what’s up ahead is too scary, then keep your head down, look at your feet, watch them carry you up the next block, around the corner, through the next mile, the next workout. since i’ve started my new job i’ve needed that technique in my non-running life a lot lately.

that’s life lesson number one. the second is probably even more valuable. it’s that, regardless of how you prep and organize and prepare for a big event like a marathon, the most important preparation you can do is to prepare yourself to respond to whatever unpredictable thing comes your way on race day. Being able to respond to what life throws at you with strength, grace and flexibility is, I think, one of the keys to happiness. And it’s really really not easy.

But anyway, the the sub-4 hour marathon has been a goal for a long long time. I wasn’t sure I had it in me this year, but conditions came together just right and there it was in front of me. And I reached out and grabbed it (just barely, with 59 seconds to spare, and not an ounce of energy left). So, the question is, what’s next? I have a few ideas.

1) The North Face Challenge 50k. yeah, it’s a 31 mile race. But it’s completely different from a marathon road race. A marathon like Chicago is all about finishing as quickly as you can. This trail race will be about the adventure, not the finish line. The course is on the single-track and fire roads in the hills of the Marin Headlands. Which, conveniently, happens to be my greater backyard. Participants have 10 hours to finish the course; there’s time to stop, to stretch, to refuel, admire the view, and then run some more. after pushing myself to run as fast as i can, i’m looking forward to doing some serious distance runs that are about completing the distance, not pushing for time.

2) Use marathons as a way to see new and foreign places. A couple of races I have my eye on: Stolkholm (annually in May), Dublin (October), Tokyo (Feburary), and Big Sur (April). But that’ll take time. I can only really fit one marathon into my life per year, it seems like. I gotta make sure it keeps being a hobby, not a burden.

3) Start training to be a marathon coach or mentor. I love dorking out on running physiology, and I seem to be pretty good at encouraging/cheerleading people through their goals. It’s a weird, satisfying moment when you find something that you are really suited for, you know? When you realize there’s something that you’re both good at and enjoy doing. That’s how I felt about “coaching”* a couple of my friends through their first marathon last year. Talking someone through a moment of crisis in the middle of their 20-miler, and seeing them find that inner strength, and finish, and go on to marathon and beyond, is a pretty great thing. (God, this post is all just inspiration pollyannay, isn’t it? Cue Chariots of Fire and release the slow-motion runners on the beach.)

But by coincidence, while i was on the plane home from chicago, and typing this blog post, i got into conversation with the guy sitting next to me. it turns out that, not only had he just finished running the chicago marathon, but that he’s a mentor with Team in Training (the training program/charity fundraiser that got me through my first marathon in 2007). he told me all about the mentoring program, how I could get involved. again…you know when it seems like opportunity is knocking?

* by coaching i mean, it was my 2nd marathon and their first. I’m no expert. I was more like the group cheerleader. But it was important. It got us all to the finish line (and the starting line) under some very tough race conditions.

not quite home

hello, rainy cool weather dunkin donuts coffee bouncy walkway at midway long ride on the Orange Line to the Brown Line to the Purple Line potbelly’s sandwiches whole town talking marathon industrial southside tree-lined northside noyes street saturday morning brunch red eye crossword that only-in-chicago accent smell of incense at the dojo simon’s tavern bumping into friends on the street. chicago, i missed you.

ramblings in the airport after a nearly perfect weekend

So I was supposed to drive to Ashland and see a show at OSF, but I discovered that the Pothole that Nearly Ate My Car last week actually really did nearly eat my car, and I need two new tires and a NEW WHEEL (wtf?) before the car is road-trip worthy. So much for saving up for a new tv…but, I decided to take advantage of a non-ideal start to the trip. Instead of dropping money on the car w/out having time to shop estimates around, I decided that the repair could wait till Monday. So I played hooky with the rest of Friday, burned some frequent flier miles, and hopped a last minute flight to Chicago.

Saturday morning I played in the Ultimate Frisbee Collective’s Finale Game*. As teams sports go, we were a scrappy group of theatre geeks, most of whom have some innate athletic ability but little or no talent for team sports. But for the past two years, we have played nearly every Saturday, rain or shine (or snow), and the ultimate game has often been the best part of my week.

For my efforts, and in recognition of being the only non-carnivore (also the only girl) on the team, I received a trophy shaped like a piece of tofu with arms and legs,** aptly named the “Facon [Fakon?] Award”. The winning team received a trophy with a piece of bacon on it, also similarly anthropomorphized.

In the afternoon Shinjinkai held the fourth annual fall-a-thon fundraiser, raising money for the zendo (rural retreat center) we are building in Wisconsin. I had planned to drop in, cheer and generally be supportive, but a minor injury sustained by someone in an earlier round meant that i got to jump in as nage for one of the later rounds. In 15 minutes I threw a contestant 305 times! The impressive feat isn’t the throwing – it was the guy taking the falls. Last year I took 206 falls and was pretty sure I was going to barf by the end. Anyway, it was so so so good to see all of my fellow aikidoka. Just being back in the room, the scent of the incense, the polished wood floors and textured mat under bare feet – it all felt so comfortingly familiar. I’ve been short on familiar and comfort, lately.

As I was changing into my gi in the locker room I looked at myself in the mirror and remembered how at first I felt so awkward in my uniform, it felt too big, goofy, poorly fit. I felt too tall, long-limbed, my balance too high in my body, i moved like a dancer, not a martial artist — no grounding, my center of gravity up high in my chest rather than centered low in the abdomen. I know those feelings of impossible awkwardness weren’t just born of insecurity because I see that look in new students, in their faces, in the way their gi hangs on their body, in the way they move on and off the mat. I felt that way for a long time. And I’m not sure when I started feeling at home in my gi, in the dojo, in the martials arts. When i started taking newer students under my wing and helping them through the maze of confusing rituals, when to bow, where to leave your shoes, how to sweep the mat in a smooth, even rhythm in step with the student before and behind you.

I’m not saying I’m accomplished or anything. On the contrary, the point here is perhaps that it took me two and a half years of training just to be confident in the most basic of rituals. Any wonder, then, why aikido is a martial art that takes a life time of dedication and study to master.

Since I moved to California I haven’t made any effort to find a dojo yet – there’s just no time for training. And I know how frustrated I would be if I were training once or twice a week, never moving forward or improving, just see-sawing back and forth. Right now there is pretty much time for work, and running. But being back at Shinjinkai for the afternoon reminded me that this is not a part of my life that I want to leave behind in Chicago. I will need to be patient in order to find the time to resume a proper study of it, but I’ll also need to make the effort to find that time. My profession isn’t one that just hands over free time if I don’t make an effort to wrestle some away now and then.

The trip at once was good for me to shake me out of my all-work-all-the-time routine here and remind me that I am more than the sum of my days and nights, that my life is bigger than the work I am doing here now. But I was confused all weekend that I was on vacation in Chicago and returning to San Francisco. I’d forget which airport I was coming from or going to, invert “back home” and “out here” when I was speaking about my new home or my old one. While waiting for my connecting flight in Denver, I had a moment of confusion when a Chicago-bound flight was directly across the hall from a San Francisco-bound flight. I’m headed home, but where is that? This weekend was restorative and troubling all at once. Restorative because it was a reminder that work is not me. I am not my job. I spend long hours at work, and when I’m there I work hard and care passionately about it. But it does not define me any more than any other single thing defines me. I am a sum of many parts, of preferences and fears and activities and plans for the future. I am martial arts and running marathons and making theatre and crafting things with my hands and wanting to explore the world. I am staying up too late and never getting enough sleep, hating to wear shoes and carrying around deep fears of vomit, spiders and mediocrity, a love for fireflies on Chicago summer nights and lingering over after-dinner coffee after a good meal. I am a terminally off-key singing voice and an aunt and someday maybe a parent, someday maybe a very good production manager. Right now I’m mostly working on the career part. But all in good time. My friend Callie handed me a bit of wisdom a few months ago when she pointed out that the great thing about getting to your thirties and facing big life-changing unrest like moving is knowing that you are not defined by your place. That you are still your same self no matter where you wake up in the morning. She’s right, and it’s a good feeling to realize that.

And it was troubling because being back in the community of Chicago makes me feel more sharply the lack of community in my new life. I’m new here, of course, and I know it takes time and work. But it’ll be an uphill battle, I think. Mill Valley is not a community where I am going to find like-minded artists or people my age. It’s an adorable and ritzy little Marin County hamlet that eschews chain stores and has polymillion*** dollar mansions in the hills where successful doctors and lawyers who commute to the city for their jobs raise their kids, disaffected spoiled teenagers who slump around downtown and congregate on the lawn in front of City Hall after it closes, looking as bored as one can possibly be in a town filled with the most spectacular weather and nature that one could ask for. I will have to go further afield to find my community.

* For some reason, the west coast is responsible for breaking up the band: at least four of the core players are in the midst of either executing or contemplating moves to various west coast cities.

** which seems to be working at cross-purposes, doesn’t it? Anthropomorphizing the thing that people eat who don’t like to eat things that have legs or eyes?

***I’ll make up words when I want to make up words. This is my blog. Bug off.

this american life, live in chicago!

i continue to hold out hope that one day, ira glass will give it all up and run away into the sunset with me. sigh. in the mean time, i had to settle for seeing the live show in chicago. btw, i think that the show is going to run this weekend on the usual radio slots around the US on various NPR stations. so, impressions:

+ holy shit is dan savage ripped. that man has guns. what does he need arms like that for to be on the radio? oh…wait. yes, i see.

+ starlee kine….is kind of whiny. her story, while adorably illustrated in post-it-note art on a video screen behind her, was a pretty run-of-the-mill dysfunctional family piece. also, she is a wee lass. she tottered out on stage on these enormous turquoise blue platform shoes and, when everyone lined up for an awkward, not-rehearsed-or-discussed-before-the-show bow at the end, she was still dwarfed by the guys on either side of her.

+ joss whedon can sing! who knew?

+ the video short by david rakoff sort of made no sense to me. i’m pretty sure it worked better for the watchers of CSI who were in the audience.

+ ira glass hosted and mixed the show live, sitting at his correspondent’s desk under a single source-4 spot, almost dj’ing it, punching buttons on several different decks to raise or lower or pause music and layer it over or under interview clips, and video clips, while doing his half of the narration live into a old-fashioned hanging microphone all in a beautifully synchronized sort of routine. i took, regrettably, no photos during the show because i was paranoid that my camera would insist on flashing in spite of me turning the flash off and then i’d be that jerk who flashed her camera right in the middle of the show when everyone else was clearly watching with rapt attention. not surprisingly, public radio listeners are a polite crowd. i don’t think the cocktail waitresses were selling a lot of drinks that night.

+ ira glass and joss whedon in the same room is pretty much nerd heaven. how do they even know each other? if you’re ira glass, maybe you can just call joss whedon up and ask him if he’d like to write a song and be on your live radio show. or maybe if you’re joss whedon, you can call ira up and say, “hey, i’ve never played the piano in front of more than 8 people at one time before, but i wrote this song and so…can i be on your live radio show?”

my front door, 2:15am

small but enthusiastic and politically-active children live in the apartment downstairs from me.

i was there.

anthropormorphizing your food is a slippery slope…

maybe the bagel place is under new ownership because the freakishly large bagels devoured the previous owner…

in the context of my own small cosmos, two important things happened last week.

1) spring arrived in chicago. there was that day, that one day when finally the trees went from being black tree skeletons silhouetted against the spring-blue sky to fuzzy green canopies shading out the sky. i wore flip flops to work. flip flops! i dearly love to be barefoot, i take my shoes off every moment i can (under my desk, as soon as i walk into an apartment), and it makes me terribly happy to be able to walk around nearly barefoot in the summers. the fields where we play ultimate turned from mud puddles to emerald green grass seemingly overnight. i am sprouting heirloom tomato, bell pepper, basil and cilantro seeds in my windowsil (the danger of frost not yet being past). summer in chicago makes life good.

2) the other item of note is that i passed my 5th kyu exam in aikido on april 19. i started my aikido training in january of 07, so this represents a big milestone. the way rank work in my dojo, you begin training unranked, then move through the kyu (grades) 5th, 4th, and so on up through 1st kyu. after 1st kyu you test for shodan (first blackbelt), and then most up through the grades of yudansha (blackbelt). most aikido schools don’t use colored belts other than white and black, but it’s the same general notion.

the format of the test, for those not familiar with it, is that each of the students taking a particular test (this time there were three of us testing for 5th kyu) is called up on to the mat. the rest of the school sits in seiza along the edge of the mat, the test committee (made up of the yudansha) sits at one end, sensei sits at the other end. from there we are asked to demonstrate any of a series of techniques. for those that require a partner then another student volunteers. there’s a lot of ritual and a lot of formality. the pressure can be really intense. i remember leaving the first test that i attended (would be a year ago, last april i guess) sort of open-mouthed, thinking, i have to do that?

anyway, i’m copying another passage here that i wrote into my training log. beware a lot of waxing poetic and circular thinking.

april 19. 5th kyu exam.
first, the important news: i passed! this was not a total surprise, i was fairly confident that i was going to pass, but regardless it’s a relief to actually get there and have that validation. i arrived at the dojo early enough to watch & take ukeumi for the kids’ test, which was ridiculously cute. kind of amazing to think that a 6-year old can think that rondori (multiple attackers) is the most fun game ever, when to us adults (well, at least to me) it’s positively terrifying. here’s a rondori clip for you non-aikido folks. note the awesome 80’s hairstyles.

now on to my test. what i was most pleased with myself was the amount of focus i felt out there on the mat. i had a moment or two of blind panic right at the beginning, but after that i felt very calm and focused. i was aware of my uke, aware of Glen calling the test requirements, and aware of Sensei (being called first i ended up in the right-most position on the mat closest to where Sensei was seated, which, as he pointed out, meant i got extra special attention). aside from those three people i was pretty much oblivious to the rest of the room, which was good. i didn’t get tangled up thinking about who was watching me or what i must look like, or if i had screwed up that last technique or forgotten to do something, etc. i didn’t even look over once to see how the other two guys testing with me were doing. (which also means that i never had to cheat and look over at one of them to figure out what a technique was).

there were definitely things i got corrected on, but they were the things i knew i was weak in (inexperienced in suburi, strikes that weren’t sharp/aggressive/martial enough, the occasional extra step that leads to sloppy technique, the proper form for mae ukemi (forward breakfalls), the fact that i nearly always do ushiro kaiten ukemi (backward rolls) on the same shoulder). but i felt like i took notes pretty well and didn’t get flustered or distracted. i was able to take and (hopefully) apply the correction and move on to the next step. i think i even parsed the japanese pretty well, though the tester usually followed the japanese call with some or all of it in english.

the test felt really long. we were out on the mat for more than 40 minutes, by my best estimate. i remember sweat just rolling down the sides of my face flushed red, feeling tired but thank god for my endurance training because i was able to reach down and push through that tired and keep going and keep my focus. if one thing stands out in my memory of watching other tests in the past it is seeing the student testing get physically and mentally exhausted and then just start to check out, lose focus, speed, precision. the endurance training i think really helps with that.

my friend marci kept promising me the value of passing my first rank exam would be that i’d feel more confident. she’s right, but i realize that the confidence doesn’t come from passing the test and knowing that i hold a rank as much as it comes from the mastery of skill that i had to go through in the past month of intense training.

i’m at a new place in my training, now. i feel on the verge of making connections that i didn’t have before. the question is whether i will go forward with it or lose that momentum? aikido has been a big cloud sort of blocking out the sun for the past few weeks, stealing my focus from other parts of my life (which i’ve given over willingly because i wanted this goal). there will be times in the future where tech, or marathon training, or other things will block out the sun and distract me from aikido.

and if i’m going to be serious about this, how many other things will i need to sacrifice to make room for this thing that has muscled its way into my life? i’m lucky that i’ve made some friendships in the dojo in the past few months, because aikido can be really hard to talk about but i often feel like i’m full of thoughts/ideas/questions that i need to process with another person. the nature of training and fighting and conflict. and why i’m doing this in the first place, come to think of it. it’s a martial art. it’s not dance, it’s not tai chi. we don’t learn the kata (forms) to perform them beautifully. we learn them because they are effective. the samuri, whose sword work is one of the sources for aikido’s largely open-hand techniques, used real blades. sharp, killing blades. i feel strongly that one has to examine the root of something in order to understand its fundamental purpose and nature. (e.g., guns were designed to kill living things. that’s what they were made for. any attempt to decorate them, make them into art, distracts from, but does not alter, their fundamental nature as killing machines. if we are going to worship and admire and fetishize them, we should acknowledge that we are fetishizing their killing nature, not just the pearl handle or the flawless steel construction.) so at the root of what i’m doing is the word martial. but aikido is also roughly translated as the Art of Peace (among other things). talk about a contradiction in terms. how do i process this paradox? aikido turns the form inside out, it repurposes the attacking/fighting/killing movements into the art of dealing with conflict in an effective manner with concern for the well-being of the attacker. the founder of aikido, Morihei Ueshiba (O-Sensei), wrote that “to control aggression without inflicting injury is the Art of Peace.” that is the nature of aikido. it is fighting repurposed into training. but to what end do we train? see how i go in circles on this?

while i don’t want to get hurt (if we’re being honest here, i’m pretty afraid of getting hurt, which seems logical of course but i don’t think everyone i train with shares that fear), i am tough enough to take a few bumps and bruises, and i realize there is risk in anything worth doing. but aside from not wanting to get hurt, i’m not interesting in fighting, in physically besting my partner on the mat, in risking hurting someone else. and if i just wanted to be sure i could fight off a mugger, i’d take a couple of self-defense seminars, learn how to kick a guy in the balls, and go on my merry way. but aikido is something different. it is the path, not the end, that has the value. it turns out that having a goal like a kyu exam was important, not because of what i achieved at the testing date but what i achieved in the weeks of training leading up to that goal.

but honestly, do i have the guts, the belly-fire for this? how do i reconcile my own desire for pacifism with the reality of conflict (physical/spiritual/emotional/political) in the world? how will i grow as a person from studying this? will my belief in peaceful negotiation be strengthened as it is challenged or revealed as naive fallacy?

come here/go away: birthday edition

come here: turning 30! i refuse to do the hide-from-my-birthday thing. i was pretty traumatized by the thought of turning 30 about a year and a half ago, when it first occurred to me that it really was inevitable. but i’ve had time to make peace with it now. i woke up the day after my birthday and thought: i guess i’m a grownup now.

go away: awkward office birthday parties.
seriously. if no one likes them why do we persist?

come here: spring! my birthday weekend marked the first nice days of spring in chicago. nearly 60 degrees and sunny for both saturday (ultimate frisbee) and sunday (long run with my marathon group). the neat thing about running outside through the cold nasty months of feb/march/april is that i get to see spring arrive on a minute level. saturday was the day that the dead expanses of lawn picked up an emerald hue. on sunday the buds on the dogwood trees took on a fuzzy appearance and the weeping willows in the park were bright orange. on monday the forsythia bushes had a yellow haze about them as the buds were on the verge of opening into flowers. last night i slept with my window open.

come here: 1950’s wedding dress i built for a friend’s play. as long as it remains a hobby, not a profession, i love building period costumes. it’s like sculpture but with fabric instead of clay or stone or a more traditional medium. there’s an unfinished picture here; hopefully a photo of the finished dress on the actor if the designer sends it to me.

come here: shamrock shuffle. mom was in town visiting and so while i ran the 8k race she did the 5k walk. here we are nearly freezing our butts off in grant park following the race. the race comes with a coupon for a free beer at the post-race party, but it was 10am, drizzling and 45 degrees. a michelob ultra, regardless of being free, was not first on my list to do after gutting out five miles at an 8’22” pace in the rain. we skipped the party and headed to intelligentsia for hot coffee.
race stats:

distance: 8k
time: 41’33” (two minutes off last year’s time)
overall: 4992 of 22575 – top 22%
women: 1374 of 12178 – top 11%
division (women 25-29): 519 of 4431 – top 12%

go away: stockholm marathon. because i dropped out of it. with the horrendous winter we’ve had i’m kind of undertrained, and while i could definitely go and tough out a five hour marathon and get to see the city and all that would be cool, it was going to be an ABSURDLY expensive way to half-ass a marathon with the exchange rate in the toilet. and when i looked at my spring, i realized that i have: aikido kyu test april 19, tech for the last show of the season may 9-24, then i’m going to berlin to visit wabes for a week in the beginning of june, and STP is opening our new play june 15. something had to give or it was all going to get half-assed and i don’t like not doing thing well. so, my sights are set on the chicago marathon, october 12. and in the realm of more immediate athletic goals, passing my fifth kyu exam in aikido (april 19).

come here: birthday movie retrospective. i celebrated my birthday with a movie party in which we showed a film from each of the major decades of my life. the 80’s selection: Princess Bride (Goonies was the runner up choice). 90’s film: So I Married an Axe Murderer (runner up: Benny and June). 00′ film: Chicago (runner up: Shaun of the Dead). the keys to the movie party (anne and i are starting to perfect this art after doing several) is 1) to start showing movies before anyone arrives – otherwise it’s impossible to herd people out of the kitchen and into a dark living room where they’re not supposed to talk, and 2) to select films that everyone has seen before so one can wander in and out of the movie room, watch your favorite scene, then head back to the kitchen for a drink or to hang out and not feel like you’re missing something crucial. when summer comes around we mean to move the party out into the back yard and project the movies onto the fence, like our own mini movies in grant park.

tough up!

this just in: chicago is ranked (by Maxim) as America’s Toughest City.

this is better than last month, when we ended up 6th on Forbe’s list of Most Miserable Cities.

the best part, however, is the list of criteria Maxim used to make the assessment (as reprinted by Monday’s Red Eye):

unemployment
years of sports failure
days of sunshine
active Marines
percentage of registered Trans Ams
women who smoke
people not eating their vegetables
people without health insurance
low rent motel rooms
miles to the nearest nuclear plant
number of people per kung fu studios, tattoo parlors and funeral parlors
number of starbucks per city block

that’s right, detroit! you think you’ve got it bad? well, tough up!