Spring fever.

March has been good to me thus far, and it just seems to be getting better. I don't get what Caesar was whining about, you know?

Like many places, we had a sudden burst of Spring weather a week or two ago. In New York City, this means that a population accustomed to surliness and the wearing of black is now dressing in bright colors and wandering the streets on balmy evenings acting like everyone just got out of jail.

I ran my fourth half marathon yesterday, and managed to barely hit a new PR (although I was a mere 4 SECONDS away from my goal--I laughed out loud when I saw my time). With how spastic my training, eating, and sleeping habits have been lately, I'll take it. I felt good and I got to see my friend Zach who was running his first (and totally killed it), so it was fun. Also, one nice thing about this city is that you can wear a space blanket cape on the subway and even if people didn't know there was a race, you definitely aren't the weirdest thing they've seen that day, so it's fine.

This is happening. Also happening this week? Company coming to visit, seeing The Black Keys at Madison Square Garden, Hunger Games coming out, and the long-awaited return of Mad Men. And I still have my space blanket cape, so I'm pretty much set for awesomeness.

Top of the heap.

This weekend I ran the New York City marathon.

Part of me still can't believe that I did it--I mean, I couldn't really believe I was doing it while I was doing it. And it was especially amazing because as of about a month ago, I wasn't at all sure it was going to happen.

After my trip to Peru I had developed some patellar tendinitis in my left knee (more on this when I finally post about Peru, but basically the Inca Trail includes miles and miles of stone steps both up and down that were pretty hard on our knees). I discovered this after an attempt to run resulted in wrenching pain in my knee. Not really ideal when I was supposed to be hitting my highest training mileage. After a couple weeks of physical therapy I still couldn't get farther than a quarter mile or so without the pain coming back. I did some workouts on the elliptical trainer but I knew it wasn't enough, and I was starting to worry. After another week of no improvement, I almost had a heart attack when the doctor wondered aloud if I could have a torn ACL, but thankfully she was able to rule that out. She referred me to an orthopedist who prescribed me an anti-inflammatory. That weekend I went for a short jog/elliptical workout and the running was still fairly painful. I called Sarah, who was coming to New York to cheer me on, and tearfully told her I didn't know if I was going to be able to do it. I was heartbroken that after working for a year to get into the marathon and then going through months of training, I might have to defer it for another year.

On Monday the following week I went to the gym and tried a slow jog on the treadmill. My knee still felt a little sore but it was so much better than the pain I'd been experiencing for weeks. I nearly cried with joy at my ability to jog a 12-minute mile. Over the next couple of weeks I was able to work up to a few high-mileage runs, with 20 miles being my longest before I started tapering. Side note: any time you think that 12 miles seems like a short run, you know something is wrong with you. I felt ready, all things considered.


Sarah had an awesome jersey made for me. I knew from watching past marathons that it was essential to put my name on my shirt to maximize crowd support, so it was perfect.


On the ferry to Staten Island.


Start village.
The New York City marathon is the largest in the world, with over 47,000 runners this year. They split the runners into three waves, and each wave has three start groups. I was in the Green start of Wave 2, which started on the lower deck of the Verrazano bridge connecting Staten Island to Brooklyn. We got into our corrals and moved toward the base of the bridge to await out turn. Then the start gun went off and huge speakers blared Frank Sinatra singing "New York, New York," and the crowd of runners began singing along as they surged forward. It was a moment I will never forget.

For the first 10-15 miles I had a huge grin plastered on my face. The crowds in Brooklyn were great, and it didn't hurt that I had several hundred people wish me a happy birthday. Even knowing that none of these people had any idea who I was, the psychological boost of hearing people cheer your name is amazing. I was smiling, high-fiving children, shouting back at people, and generally having the time of my life. I didn't even listen to music for most of the time, just coasting by on the crowd's enthusiasm.

I knew that the Queensboro bridge at mile 16 or so (connecting Queens to Manhattan) was one of the toughest parts of the race. It's a pretty serious incline, and no spectators are allowed on the bridge so you don't have that support. I took a minute to stop and stretch my legs, which were starting to feel a little tight, put "Party Rock Anthem" on my iPod and kept going with the Manhattan skyline in front of me.

Exiting the bridge onto First Avenue was nuts. The crowds were several people deep and everyone was just going bananas. I was also excited because I knew I'd be seeing Sarah and lots of my friends in just a couple miles, so I had that to keep me going. My lovely friends were there with signs, costumes, and huge cheers. Around mile 19 I spotted Sarah and she started shrieking and jumped out of the crowd to run along next to me, clutching band-aids, chapstick, sport beans, and an array of other supplies. She ran with me for a few miles--through the Bronx and back down onto Fifth Avenue in Manhattan. Many people asked me when I "hit the wall." I honestly don't think that I did, and it's because I had Sarah there next to me as my own personal pit crew at probably the toughest part of the race. It made all the difference, and I'm so glad she was there. I stopped to stretch again and then we kept going--thankfully she has a gift for chatting while running so I could just listen and have her distract me. Around mile 21 she did as, "So, do you think you'll do this again?" NOT THE TIME, Sarah.


Taken by Sarah as we ran.
As we came down Fifth Avenue I said goodbye to Sarah around mile 23. At that point I was incredibly tired, and the long hill on Fifth Avenue was pretty brutal. I saw more friends (and some of the same ones who had also been on First), and I wanted to be able to run over and give them hugs and high fives, but at that point I just had to keep moving straight ahead. But having them there helped me keep putting one foot in front of the other. Also helpful was the random dude who shouted, "Laura, you are looking DEAD SEXY!" The course veered into the park for the final couple of miles, and I think it was at that point that I finally realized, "Hey, I'm running a marathon right now and I might actually finish it!" Those last miles felt incredibly long, but soon the finish line came into view. I don't think I had the energy left to cry, but I let out something between a laugh and a sob after I crossed that line. It was a surreal and pretty incredible moment.


To be honest, the worst part of the marathon was probably just after finishing. I got my heat sheet and my medal and a bag of food and drinks, and then began the long, slow walk to pick up my bag. They make you walk almost a mile to keep the flow of traffic moving and to prevent people from just sitting down and passing out. I was cold and exhausted and emotional, and all I wanted was to get out of the park, see Sarah and stretch (although I have to say, I am amazed at how well organized this race is--I can't even imagine the magnitude of planning that must go into it). I finally got my bag and made it to the steps of the Natural History Museum and put on my sweats, and immediately felt a lot better.


Please excuse my giant head and tiny tyrannosaurus arms.
I had originally planned to go home and shower and then get some dinner afterward, but I realized I was ravenous and that if I went home I probably wouldn't want to leave again. I had already selected Shake Shack as my post-marathon meal, so we headed there and gorged ourselves on burgers, cheese fries and ice cream. There were lots of other runners there and the employees were giving out free hot chocolate. After dinne, we came home and crashed on my couch and watched X-Men: First Class, because I had definitely earned some quality time with James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender.

Anyway, I really don't think I could have asked for a better day. The weather was perfect, I had fantastic cheerleaders, I didn't have any pain beyond what was to be expected, my knee felt fine, I didn't feel like puking, and all of my toenails are still intact. Now I just have to figure out how I'm going to top it for next year's birthday.

Here come the waterworks.

It's starting, you guys. Every year, Asics does a great ad campaign in the weeks leading up to the New York Marathon, and banners and posters have been popping up all over the city. Every time I see one, I get a little choked up. Totally normal to get emotional over an ad on the side of a bus, right?



Am I going to weep through this entire marathon? It's a distinct possibility.

Two weeks to go.

In case you didn't know.

I wore pants today for the first time in over a month. Like so many ingenious ideas, I didn't really set out to do it on purpose at first, but eventually the idea of No-Pants July took shape. It was especially handy around the time a massive heatwave made even a breeze feel like someone was pointing a giant hair dryer in your face. Things got a little dicey last week when we had a random evening of 70-degree rain and wind, but I powered through. Today I wore jeans just because I could, and when I got to work the air conditioning was broken. Bummer.

Ice cream for dinner at Serendipity during the heat wave. The only choice.
Marathon training also started about 5 weeks ago and is going well so far. There are definitely still mornings when I wimp out (those mornings usually involve something higher than 85% humidity) and I don't love having to wake up at 6:30 on Saturday mornings to get a long run in before it's blazing hot, but I've surprised myself with how diligent I've been. Also surprising is how I manage to get choked up every time I read someone's account of running a marathon or see pictures from a marathon or think about running the final stretch down 5th Avenue (seriously! It's happening right now, you guys!). I guess I'm looking forward to it.

By the way, one month from tomorrow I leave for Peru.

Firsts.

So with the beginning of a new year, I'm already looking forward to a couple of new experiences I'll be having in the near(ish) future.

One of them is a trip, probably in September or October. I've been wanting to take a big trip for a while, because it's been a few years since I've left the country (I don't count my weekend in Montreal last year, since Canada is basically America Junior). (Just kidding, Canada, don't be offended! Your citizens are actually extremely nice and friendly and your crepes are delicious.) Anyway, where the "first" comes in is the destination: Africa or South America. I'm very lucky to have been several places in Europe, and while I absolutely love it there, I want to try something different. Originally the plan was to go to Egypt, along with spending a couple days in Istanbul. I still really want to do that, but recently another idea has been forming: Machu Picchu*. I'm talking the 4-day Inca Trail hike through the Andes that finishes with a sunrise arrival at the ruins.



And now I'm torn, because both trips sound really awesome and don't worry, I've already spent hours on Lonely Planet and TripAdvisor planning both of these getaways and I have them all budgeted out, and they will cost roughly the same amount. So, thoughts? Where should I go? And also, do you want to come with me?

The other first showed up in my inbox the other day in the form of an email confirmation:



It's happening. November 6. On my last day of being 26, I plan to run 26(.2) miles for the first time in my life. Cute, right? And also mildly terrifying. So if you want to come and make some signs and cheer me on, I would be fine with that.

*I included the Wikipedia link for people who don't know what Machu Picchu is. When I mentioned to my friend that I was thinking about it, he stared at me blankly until I showed him a picture. He then claimed that if I'd just called it "Peru Mountain City" he would have totally known right away.

Warrior.

Have you ever wondered how you would have fared as a Viking? Ever since Sarah showed me this link six months ago, I knew this was something I needed to be a part of. Luckily, I have a few friends who are game for ridiculous (by which I clearly mean awesome) ideas, so we all got to experience it together.


The Northeast region race was held at a ski resort in the Catskills last weekend, so 12 of us (8 racers, 4 cheerleaders/photographers) drove up on Saturday morning for a 3.25 mile race. On a mountain. With obstacles.


Yes, I realize I'm making the "I love you" sign, not bull horns as I had intended. It was corrected later.
The place was insane--packed with upwards of 8000 racers plus spectators. It was awesome, though, and there was an immediate sense of camaraderie because let's face it, this is kind of a strange and crazy thing to do. Tons of people wore costumes, some more elaborate than others. People kept shouting "TUTUUUUUU!" at us and we became instant friends.


Our groupies.

The initial ascent.
Our wave started at 1:30, and I was giddy with adrenaline. We were joking about how I should push to the front, and then our group started chanting, "LAURA'S GONNA WIN! LAURA'S GONNA WIN!" Spoiler alert: I did not win. Anyway, off went the gun (and by gun, I mean giant FLAME-THROWERS) and off we ran. For like 2 minutes, until it became very clear that the crazy uphill climb was not ending anytime soon and we decided to walk for a bit. At one point as we were all gasping for breath, a girl near me told her friend, "At least we can say that we're true warriors. None of our friends can say that!" The other girl simply replied, "Our friends are JERKS!"


For the next 3 miles, we ran (sometimes trudged) through forests and across ski slopes, hopped over walls, crawled through tunnels, ran through tires, waded waist-high ponds, climbed cargo nets, careened down a giant Slip N' Slide, leaped over fire, and dragged ourselves through mud (under barbed wire) to the finish line. It was awesome.


After we finished and got our medals, we hung out by the mud pit to wait for the others and watch the racers come through. Some guys were absolutely fearless--diving or flipping straight into the mud, some even clearing the first line of barbed wire. They got huge cheers from the spectators, while people who stepped gingerly into the pit were met with resounding boos.

Who wants a hug?

Afterward we headed for the showers, which were basically power hoses set up on a grassy area. The water was ice cold and I totally shrieked like a crazy person while I tried to wash off as much mud as possible. After that, it was back to the car to change. I ditched my shoes in the donation pile but cleverly forgot to bring an extra pair, so I spent the rest of the day barefoot.


We were all starving after the race, so we stopped at a random diner for sustenance. I ordered a huge 1/2 pound cheeseburger with fries and completely cleaned my plate, and still felt awesome afterward. Because I am a true warrior.

It was an absolute blast, and I can't wait to do it again next year.

Catching up.

So. Let's talk about May, shall we?

It started off with a little of this:


And kept on being pretty stellar the rest of the time. I got to go to the live taping of Oprah at Radio City Music Hall, thanks to my lovely clients at Harpo. It was a lot of fun and also extremely amusing because everyone was decked out in their cutest outfits in bright spring colors (I didn't look to bad myself, if I do say so). O even commented on it when she came out in her pink sequined floor-length skirt. Anyway, we didn't come away with any swag, but it was a good time all around.

A few days after that, I got to go home to California for a visit. Two of my sisters were visiting at the same time, so I got to see most of the fam, which was great. Some highlights:



Visiting the Jelly Belly factory.



In-N-Out runs.



Flying kites in the park.



Kissing scrumptious baby cheeks.

Other activities included Ostler favorites: eating lots of delicious food, playing games, winning at Buzz (me), watching movies, squealing during Wii Super Mario, taking walks, and laughing a lot. I also got to see Marisa and Rob for the first time in far too long, but apparently we did not take any pictures. We did eat ice cream though, so win some, lose some.

I had a great time at home, as always. I love living in New York, but I've realized that it's necessary to get out of the city every now and then in order to keep enjoying it. Otherwise it starts feeling a little claustrophobic. So this was the perfect way to relax and just be able to hang out with a lot of people that I happen to really like.

The week after I came back to the city, I did half marathon #3, in Brooklyn.

Lauren and I post-race.

I did this race last year, which was my first half marathon. I didn't break my goal, unfortunately, but I did run it much faster than last year and my knees didn't give me any problems (which has been my biggest concern lately), so it's all right. I'm taking a summer hiatus from races (running in 90 degree humidity does not seem that appealing to me) but already have plans for the fall: Warrior Dash. I don't think I need to say anymore about that.

May ended with a road trip to Montreal with a couple of my girlfriends, which will be a separate post. In the meantime, more May pictures can be found here.

Runner's high.

As I stood shivering in my tank top in the half-light of Sunday morning, I couldn't help but wonder, "Why in the world am I doing this again?" Like, maybe when I had signed up a few months earlier to run 13 miles, I hadn't been seriously considering how comfortable my bed is. I wondered how many of the other 11,000 people there were thinking the same thing. But after training for weeks and quickly destroying the cold virus that had threatened me earlier in the week (including some Googling to contradict my friend's claim that high volumes of Vitamin C can lead to kidney stones), I wasn't about to turn back.

Thankfully, it was a beautiful day for a run, with clear skies and a cool breeze. My favorite part of the race was around mile 8, when--after coming out of Central Park and before turning down the West Side Highway toward the site of the World Trade Center--the course took us through midtown. There's something about being in a sea of runners going through Times Square while total strangers cheer you on that is pretty hard to beat. It was the perfect adrenaline boost for the last half of the race.

Photo from New York Road Runners

(Incidentally, my second favorite part was the group of people around mile 11 holding a sign that read "High Five Station" and slapping our hands as we ran past.)

My goal for my first one was basically to not die, which I managed pretty well and finished in 2 hours 20 minutes. This time, I was shooting for 2 hours. My official finish time was 2:00:23. I'll take it. And besides, I'll have a chance to break the 2-hour mark in 9 weeks, when I run the Brooklyn half marathon. I'm taking a week off while I hobble around on ridiculously sore legs like an 80-year-old, and then it's back to training. I think maybe I'm a glutton for punishment.

Things.

The half marathon training has officially begun. On the first day, the cold wind was making my eyes water, and then the tears froze on my face. So you could say things are going well so far. The schedule, for those of you who want to play along at home:


If any seasoned runners have advice or suggestions to share, please let me know. Last time around, my goals were twofold:

1. Don't die.
2. Don't come in last.
This year, I want a finish time of 2:00:00. I'm pretty good at endurance over long distances, so speed is the main issue that I need to work on. Anyway, we'll see how that goes.

My training might get temporarily derailed this weekend, though, as I'm going to North Carolina to see The Whitleys and meet baby Annabelle.


I was talking to Allison earlier, graciously offering to help with some things while I was there, and she acknowledged that she would "put me to work". She further explained that to mean keeping Emaline entertained. I don't think she understands what "work" is, because I'm pretty sure it doesn't normally include playing dress-ups and having a 4-year-old draw pictures of you and give you hugs. Challenge accepted.

I'm going to stick my finger in her dimple.

Round two.

Well, I had so much fun last year that I'm going back for more. The New York City Half Marathon is in two months, and I just found out that I got accepted out of the lottery drawing for entry. The race I did last year was in Brooklyn, but this is the big one--it starts in Central Park, then goes through Times Square, and finishes downtown. I think it will be awesome, and I'm trying to keep that in mind as I contemplate training in 20-degree weather.

Running for pie.

At the beginning of October, around the time I discovered I would get to go home for Thanksgiving, Sarah and I talked about finding a race to do together while we were there. Others caught on and things got a little out of hand, with the end result being that last Thursday morning, 8 of us participated in the Silicon Valley Turkey Trot. Most of us did the 10K race, while Sarah's husband Joel ran the 5K and two mini-redheads rocked the kids' races (and got MEDALS, which I am totally not at all jealous about).

The weeks leading up to the race included many mass emails back and forth with updates on mileage and training. It was fun getting each other hyped up and also talking trash (obligatory). It all culminated in the glory of Thanksgiving day, running alongside some of my faves with the promise of major gluttony later on.



Totally gangsta.
Disgustingly, David smoked all of us and finished first despite not having trained at all (unless you count going on one 2-mile run a few weeks before the race, which I do not). But we all finished under our goal time of an hour and looked fabulous doing it. Special props to my dad who, though he is in a two-man biker gang with my mom, had never run more than a couple miles before he started training for this race.

We were rewarded handsomely with a little of this action:


There may also have been mass quantities of pie involved. My stomach had been training for this day just as much as my legs had. Life is about balance, right?

More pictures here.

Half marathon.

10 weeks of training
a 5:30 am wake-up call
3+ hours on the subway (round trip)
one wicked blister
3 cups of Gatorade
13.1 miles
one tired girl

This is what victory looks like.

Victory.

On Saturday I ran the entire loop around Central Park - 6.3 miles (the first time I only made it about 4.5 before walking the rest). And while I know of at least one marathon runner who reads my blog, for me this was quite an accomplishment. I would like to dedicate my success to one Kanye West, whose inspiring anthem "Gold Digger" ("We want prenup! Yeeeeeah!") helped me to conquer Heartbreak Hill.