Honda LA Marathon
Los Angeles, California
March 20, 2011
This was truly a test of determination, because it was me, myself and I out on that track. My parents weren't there, my friends weren't there, it was just me and the track.
Luckily, the start was a little later than Disney, so I got to sleep a little more. I drove to Santa Monica and then got on a shuttle to Dodger Stadium, and I was significantly less nervous than my first one, which I thought was a good sign!
On the way to the stadium, the talk of the shuttle was if, or when, it would rain. Most people thought it would rain around noon, when IW as slated to finish. Still, I'd dressed prepared for the weather, hoping that it would be a little drizzle here and there, because I like running in that weather. It's breezy, it's easy to breathe in, and there's little to no chance of overheating.
Unluckily for me, right before the race started, I saw the one guy I did not want to see: I'll call him "N" and I met him one time after I was done covering the Oscars. We met in yoga, when he was on a trial period, and he said he didn't like it, but he also said I should come over sometime and he'd cook me dinner. So I went over to his house and he cooked me dinner. We talked and I thought we really hit it off. For the first time, I'd found someone who was smart and motivated (he's in his 4th year of medical school at USC), funny, cute and has similar interests (he, too, was running the LA Marathon).
Then I never really heard from him again. And when I did, I was the one to initiate the conversation, and he was always too busy to meet. I was really torn up about it, but, as indicated by my previous posts, I was trying desperately to get over it. And I thought I had.
Then I saw him at the marathon, and I pretended not to notice, to see if he would notice me. I was wearing a hat, so I didn't think he would, and he didn't. I thought I was fine at the beginning of the race, but he would end up lingering on my mind for the entire 26.2 miles.
At the start, it was nice because I'd been seeded in a corral, so I was in front of the 20,000+ runners coming out of Dodger Stadium. However, as we exited the stadium and we were coming down Elysian Park Drive (literally as we were passing under the sign that says "Thanks for visiting Dodgers Stadium!"), the skies opened up and it started to rain. Drizzle at first, but then the real rain hit.
For those of you who are not familiar with Los Angeles, the drainage in the streets is not that good. So, for a good portion of the race, I may as well have been running in a river. Here's a couple pictures from the race, which I'll try to use to illustrate how wet it was:
Despite the rain and the hills, I thought I was doing pretty well. Through mile 15, I was well above a 4:15 pace, and I thought I might actually be able to finish the race a full 30 minutes faster than Disney. I could see it in my head, and my goal at that point became 4:09:00. I knew it was a stretch, but I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could pull it off.
Then mile 17 hit. As I was running down Wilshire Boulevard out of Beverly Hills, my legs were in intense pain. I was miserable from being soaked and I could barely move, so I had to take a break at the medical tent, which didn't have IcyHot, just ice packs and aspirin. I tried to recover as much as I could and I was walking for portions of the next 9 miles.
By then, I was just trying to beat my Disney time (4:39:36), because I didn't come this far and train this hard to not beat that time, especially running in the stupid rain. Around Mile 24, I got a huge second wind, because we were running down the streets in Santa Monica, and I could actually count down the number of blocks until we hit the beach, where the finish line was. Little did I know that that was the beginning of the fight to the finish.
When I rounded the corner onto Ocean Boulevard, I could see the finish line. However, the finish line was about half a mile away, and it didn't seem to be getting any closer. I'm running my *** off at a pace that I feel is faster than I've ever run before (my Nike+ says I was running around a 7:35/mi), and I'm passing people, but the finish line doesn't seem to be drawing any closer. At all. Ever.
And then I crossed the finish line and it was over. I was officially a second-time marathoner, but all I could think about was how lonely I felt, and I started sobbing. For some reason, there was no sense of accomplishment, there was no feeling of "wow, I can't believe I just did that," it was all self-pity and depression. I was fighting to hold back tears as I went through the crowds of people, but it really was too much to bear knowing that I didn't have anyone there supporting me. I had just run what was possibly the most grueling race of my life, but I still felt like crap because no one was there to celebrate it with me.
That's when it hit me: I don't think the way I live my life is ever going to keep me happy, or even get me remotely close. Instead, I just live this numbed version of my life, hoping that feelings will go away and I can work my way around it, because I've proven to myself so far that, with some perseverance and hard work, anything can happen.
Then my thoughts started drifting back to N. I felt stupid, I felt dumb for feeling stupid, I felt alone, I wondered what was wrong with me--it was a wave of negative emotion that I really didn't let hit me until I got back to my car, at which point I turned on the radio and let it all out. An hour later, once I'd gotten home, I fell asleep listening to the sound of the rain outside, hoping everything would be better. I even texted N, congratulating him for finishing, assuming that he did.
When I woke up, I had a text from him, so I texted him back, and we ended up making plans for Wednesday. I all of a sudden had an injection of hope. All the embarrassment that I had bared this past week from having my friends sign me up on online dating sites, all the anxiety and weird bouts of sadness...I felt like they finally were culminating in something worthwhile.
Fast forward to Tuesday night: he calls me out of the blue to have a chat with me. I knew that something was coming, but I don't think I was quite prepared for it: he got matched for his residency at an Ivy League on the east coast, and he's moving out there at the end of April, so he just wanted to let me know that so I don't get my hopes up. Great.
But I didn't let that stop me from going out with him last night, I tried to keep a positive attitude. I went to dinner with him, and then we went back to his place and cuddled. I've never done this with another guy before, and I was definitely tentative, but I was SO happy that I did. I have never felt wore wanted or understood or comfortable ever, and I had a fantastic time.
Then I woke up this morning and realized that a) he might not want this to happen again (he didn't text me back again) and b) even if he did, I only have five weeks left with him. Is it really worth it to go through this? Am I going to beat myself up over it too much (even though I clearly am)? It's a rush of feelings that I've never really felt before and I don't know how to deal with because I don't think there are a lot of things about myself that I fully accept.
So now here I am. I feel like I should be ecstatic that I finished this race. I should feel accomplished. I should feel
something positive. But I'm really struggling to find any kind of sunshine on this gloomy day, and it seems like this isn't the right way to feel (though is there ever really a right way to feel?). And then I feel stupid for feeling negative, which is just perpetuating the cycle. At this point, I'm just trying to keep it all together so I don't completely fall apart, and I've got my eyes on the next prize: The Bank of America Marathon in Chicago on October 9.
Finish time: 04:34:31
Tomorrow: easy 3 mile run
but I was able to muster up the tenacity to finish the race at least.
