Day 141: Boo! (Well, *I'm* scared!)

Weatherwatch for Nov. 2 (from weather.com):

Partly cloudy, high of 53° (38° at 5 am, wind chill 33°; 40° at 8 am, wind chill 35°), chance precip. 10%, wind ENE 6 mph, humidity 60%, UV index 3

(overnight low Nov. 1: 37°, chance precip. 10%)

Weather.gov for Nov. 2: Sunny, high 53°, wind NE 6–8 mph (overnight low Nov. 1: 39°)

Halloween -- the last day of rest (if that's what this is!) before the marathon. I woke up very early, part of the sleep-shifting. Bit of a sore throat! -- could be picking up a cold, or maybe it's just the cold, dry air of Long Island. Argh! Ate/drank: water, orange juice, mint tea with honey, a Stella d'Oro breakfast treat, two packets of apple-cinnamon oatmeal.

Plus, quality bathroom time, all morning. Ahhh.

I did some work, and eventually the sun came up. The bagel store didn't have any cinnamon-raisins on my way to the train station -- a bad omen? -- and when I got up to the platform at 9:12, the delayed 9:07 peak train was there, meaning that I had to fork over another $2.75 to get to the city (I had planned on taking the off-peak 9:15). But whatever.

I strolled over to the Javits Center: the race expo. What a production. I can only imagine what it's like at full tilt -- Carson had repeatedly warned me that I would have to stand in long, snaking, Disneyland-like lines. I zipped in, picked up my bib and goodie bag and T-shirt, scanned my chip, bought a couple of knickknacks at the official marathon store, picked up a couple of useless items of swag from the exhibitors, and was outta there in about an hour. Piece of cake!

Actually, no cake, but more water, plus an egg bagel (instead of a cinnamon-raising) and my customary tea with milk and sugar (should have made it honey!), plus two peanut-butter-and-honey-and-cinnamon sandwiches on wheat bread, plus a banana. The bagel store did have cinnamon-raisin bagels when I got back to Long Island, and I also picked up some throat drops, as well as a $3 leave-behind shirt from TJ Maxx. Hey, when you're freaking out, you start buying things. On Carson's advice, I eschewed all free samples at the expo (Gu being dispensed like lotion from big tubs -- blech) except for a shot of pomegranate juice, which made me smack my lips. For the second time in this blog post, this time with gusto: Ahhh!

Now, I'm going to rest, do some more work, and hide from the kiddies who will probably show up shortly, seeking candy. Dinner might be in about two hours or so, and tomorrow I'll wake up even earlier, for my last pre-marathon run (a short one), and last day of prep.

Still reading? Don't worry, the nail-biting conclusion will come soon enough...!

Before I forget! To keep up with me during the race, click here, and you'll get e-mail updates of my time -- you can search me by name (I'm the only Plosky, to no surprise). This feature is especially handy if you have a BlackBerry or iPhone or something and need real-time info because you plan to see me in the flesh -- in which case, let me know where you'll be, and I'll let you know what I'm wearing, so we can best spot each other!

Bonus: it's now 6:15 PM, and I'm bloated from pasta. The neighborhood kids are trick-or-treating. Best costume ever: a little girl came to the door dressed as a picnic table. Her head stuck up through the middle of the round table, through a paper plate. "Trick or treat!" she said, earnestly. I waited for her to proffer a plastic pumpkin, or even a bag, into which I could deposit the 'fun'-size Baby Ruth... but nothing happened. After a moment I realized her arms weren't long enough to extend out from under the table. "OK," I said, in what I hoped was an agreeable voice, and placed the Ruth on the table. "Thanks," she said, carefully balancing the Ruth as she turned to walk down the porch steps. "Careful!" cried a middle-aged woman from the sidewalk. Only on Halloween, kids, only on Halloween.

And another bonus (this one's a penalty, actually): I now have a little bit of a sniff in addition to the sore throat. Strong like bull for weeks, and now...  Well, here's hoping that a good night's sleep will put me aright.

Day 140: Carbo-loading

Weatherwatch for Nov. 2 (from weather.com):

Mostly sunny, 48°, chance precip. 20%, wind ENE 7 mph, humidity 57%, UV index 3

(overnight low Nov. 1: 37°, chance precip. 20%)

Weather.gov for Nov. 2: Sunny, high 54° (overnight low Nov. 1: 39°)

It's a curious thing, to have to eat more than you want to eat. Carson encountered this every day of the bike trip, during which it was necessary for him to ingest something like 7,000 calories a day -- just to survive. I'm nowhere near that requirement, but I found myself eating all day, and still wondering whether I'll be prepared for Sunday.

Carson and Theresa took me for breakfast this morning -- which actually was my breakfast no. 2, since I woke up at about 5:00 (still shifting a little each day). That gave me plenty of time to pack up and have breakfast no. 1. After no. 2 (and no. 2), I stopped at the office for a hot mugful of tea and then hit the road for New York, making pretty good time. Got some groceries at the local Trader Joe's, got in a run, got myself organized a little bit, and then cooked up a giant pot of whole-wheat pasta for carbo-loading dinner no. 1. Now it's almost 7:30, so I should be getting ready for bed! Marathon expo is tomorrow in the city.

I feel weird. A lot of anticipation. We'll see how I sleep. Not too long... alarm is set for 4. Hey, this marathoning isn't for wimps!

Day 139: Anxiety

Weatherwatch for Nov. 2 (from weather.com):

Mostly sunny, high 48°, chance precip. 20%, wind NE 9 mph, humidity 57%, UV index 3

(overnight low Nov. 1: 38°, chance precip. 20%)

Weather.gov is showing a high of 54° for Sunday. Go figure. You wanna bet on the private sector, or the public?

Last training run in Cambridge today, as dusk was settling over the city. Very cold and windy, but I was grimly determined. As usual, I listened to an NPR podcast (Talk of the Nation), and it occurred to me that with all the running I've done, and all the iPod-listening, I've learned a lot.

Hard to believe that it's only a few days until the Big Race. I have been reading all sorts of stuff -- for instance, because it seems that I'll be running along the lower level of the Verrazano Bridge, I need to stay away from the edge, because although the edge offers the best views, it's also the best place to get dripped on by urine from runners on the upper deck. Uh... yeah.

I will be part of an enormous crowd -- almost 40,000 runners will be starting the race. I guess this means that I'll be running with thousands of people for the entire race, and there won't be much opportunity for me to be in my own zone. I'll need to concentrate, and try not to collide with everyone else at the water stops.

Tomorrow morning: to New York! Yes. This is really happening.

Day 138: Wet & leafy

Weatherwatch for Nov. 2 (from weather.com):

Partly cloudy, high 50°, chance precip. 20%, wind NNE 8 mph, humidity 54%, UV index 3

(overnight low Nov. 1: 39°, chance precip. 20%)

Four more miles today on the trail. Sunset was before 6:00.

I am starting to get up earlier every day this week so I won't be in total shock when I wake up double-triple-early on Sunday -- SUNDAY! -- for the Big Race. This means that it's dark when I wake, so today I ran after work, and tomorrow I will do the same, but a bit earlier.

It was rainy most of the day today, but only drizzling when I went for the run. The trail is covered in leaves and pine needles, and everything was soaked through today -- I was paranoid about slipping and injuring myself. In fact, I've been paranoid about getting sick or injuring myself in general. Evidently this is considered a normal part of the taper... with no long running to do, the mind tends to wander, and to occupy itself with whatever horrible, sordid thoughts happen to be floating about.

I have been receiving encouragement and sage advice from many friends, which is very much appreciated.

And now, it's after 9:00, which means it's pumpkin time for me. Not beer, alas... sleep.

Day 137: Just a bit of rest

Weatherwatch for Nov. 2 (from weather.com):
Mostly sunny, high 50°, chance precip. 20%, wind N 12 mph, humidity 53%, UV index 3
(overnight low Nov. 1: 33°, chance precip. 20%)

That's it for now...

Day 136: One week to go! So... what next?

"Weatherwise, it's such a lovely day..."

At 8:00 this morning --

Weatherwatch for Nov. 2 (from weather.com):

Mostly sunny, high 59°, chance precip. 20%, wind SSW 7 mph, humidity 62%, UV index 3

(overnight low Nov. 1: 42°, chance precip. 20%)

At 3:00 this afternoon --

Few showers, high 54°, chance precip. 30%, wind NW 9 mph, humidity 61%, UV index 2

(overnight low Nov. 1: 42°, chance precip. 30%)

I love it when people try to predict weather. A few showers and a few degrees cooler are fine... I just hope I don't get monsooned on.

Five miles today. For the first time since the half-marathon last month in Maine, I pushed myself, just a little bit. Today's time wound up being only 20 seconds off my 5-mile race time from April. Back then, I was exhausted, and I thought I had done really well. But today I wasn't even going that hard. I wonder how much I could really shave off if I were racing 5.

I've started to think about what I'm going to do after the marathon. ML reported that not having anything on the calendar afterward was a point of unhappiness, and I agree. I'm looking at other races, including some of the ones I did this year, and trying to make a plan. One big question is: will I do another marathon? Of course, I can't answer that one until I answer this one: will I do THIS marathon? I was encouraged by ML's finish last weekend and further encouraged today by my friend Andy, who completed the Marine Corps Marathon in DC, and by Carson, who rocked his morning race up in Lowell.

I'm feeling pretty good, and not really minding the not running. I'm trying to eat a bit better and sleep a bit more, and to shift my clock a little earlier to prepare for the race... only SEVEN DAYS away. Frightening. I will have to be at the staging area, outside the New York Public Library in midtown, to board a 5:30 AM bus to Staten Island, which means, working backward, I have to wake up REALLY early, to allow proper time for orienting, eating, using the bathroom (several times), and getting to midtown. Yikes and a half.

If you're interested in watching me run next Sunday, please e-mail me, and I will send you some notes, in case you haven't yet been briefed. It would be amazing to see friends (and even hecklers) along the way, even if you will be seeing me at my worst. Or, perhaps... at my best.

Day 135: Break out the maps

Weatherwatch for Nov. 2 (from weather.com):

Partly cloudy, high 61°, chance precip. 20%, wind W 8 mph, humidity 64%, UV index 3

The weather forecast remains steady. Good!

Looked over the marathon course map with Carson today and began to draw up the Master Spectator Plan. If you're interested in watching part of the race, check out the course map yourself.

Six miles today, on the trail. Still keeping up a pretty good pace.

Rain is on the way. With any luck, it'll end tomorrow morning, so that my next run can be done in dryness. I have been very fortunate as concerns the weather.

Now: one more bagel.

Day 134: Wait for the dawn

Weatherwatch for Nov. 2 (from weather.com):

Partly cloudy, high 61°, chance precip. 20%, wind NNE 7 mph, humidity 64%, UV index 3

Evidently the average high for Nov. 2 is 58°, with a record high (from 1950) of 83°. Yikes.

This is an excellent forecast, except that a north wind would be in my freakin' face for most of the first 20 or so miles (although with a tailwind for the end). We'll see how the forecast changes over the next week or so.

I was supposed to do a pre-dawn, 30-degree run with Katie early this morning, but I bailed, instead opting for extra sleep. Hey, I'm tapering! I did get in my 4 miles later in the day. Today was supposed to be a rest day, but since I didn't run Wednesday, I ran today. Next scheduled rest day: Monday.

A few people were over at the Norris Palace for bagels last night, which was really nice. Major props to Crystal for bringing chocolate-chip cookies, which I l-o-v-e. Bigbig.

Christopher's had CBC pumpkin on tap. Excellent to know.

And now: time to sleep. Tomorrow: the last "long" run, and a few other marathon-related preps.

Day 133: The return

Back in Cambridge. Bagels on the table. Four more miles on the trail under my belt. (Next to the bagels, in a manner of speaking.)

It's getting cold. Leaves and pine needles covered the trail and I was worried about slipping. Now that I have no long runs to worry about, I'm worrying about other things, like injuring myself. I put the living-room air conditioner in the pantry today, and I had visions of being crushed underneath it, or severing my toes, or having one of my legs pop out of its socket.

Have I mentioned that the seasonal time change ("fall back") takes place during the night of Nov. 1-2? An extra hour of sleep for me the night before the marathon. This is good, because I will need to be in position, outside the New York Public Library in Manhattan, at 5:30 AM on race day to catch the bus to Staten Island. And then, since my start isn't until 10:00, I'll have hours to freeze my butt off outdoors. Oh, joy!

I've only got a few days here to take care of a bunch of stuff, and then it's back to New York on Thursday. Potential spectators: stay tuned for viewing details, especially if you'd like to meet up with one or more of my roving gangs of family/friends.

Tomorrow: the weatherwatch begins. How many times will the forecast change between Oct. 24 and Nov. 1, and how will any of them compare to the actual weather? I should start a pool.

Back to the NewsHour with Jim Lehrer, who for some reason is picking his schnoz as he narrates the day's happenings. Boy, PBS has really gone downhill. And upnose.

Day 132: Effects

First, let me note that I ran 4 miles yesterday, and I was supposed to run 4 today, but I didn't. Busy day, as you'll hear shortly. Yesterday morning, there was frost on the grass here in Syosset. It has been cold -- but sunny -- all week. At long last, the 10,000 bug bites I received on the insides of my knees, courtesy of the insectoid residents of Chincoteague, have disappeared. (My mom reminded me that a couple of years ago up at Acadia, I alone, out of a crowd of [mostly elderly] bus tourists, was targeted by mosquitoes. I guess they find me irresistible.)

Today, as yesterday, my family was at my grandmother's apartment in Brooklyn, going through her belongings and trying to see to them. I got a van today so my brother and I could rescue some stuff, which is now in my parents' garage, but except for some of the smaller items, most of the big pieces -- including some heavy, probably valuable furniture -- will be given over to a wholesaler-type guy, who will liquidate the remaining contents. I guess it's just not practical to save some of this stuff, which I understand, but it is a shame. I suppose I had thought that everything could just be preserved in situ for an indeterminate period of time: surely, as a museum, the place could endure. No.

Fortunately, the smaller items include a few meaningful keepsakes, including many pictures and other curios I had never seen before (e.g., my grandma's engagement notice from 1939). My mom and my aunt were repeatedly moved to tears, and toward the end of the day, we all sort of lost it for a little bit.

For today, of course, was also the last time I will ever be at my grandmother's place. I remember staying over many times as a kid, with the window open in my mom and aunt's old bedroom, listening to the Brooklyn traffic honking below. I remember playing the piano with two fingers, and my grandmother insisting that I wait until later in the day, lest I wake the neighbors. (Not much chance of that.) I remember playing cards, and pushing the elevator buttons, and a hundred other tiny little things... and I guess the way these things work is, I always will.

All of this meant that I missed my scheduled run today. It just wasn't going to happen. It occurred to me today that although I have been pretty faithful about the running, and I actually feel pretty good, I haven't done much of the other stuff that people who are running marathons are probably supposed to do: biking, swimming, eating smartly, sleeping enough, pushups/situps, strength training, Pilates, whatever. I compensated for my feelings of inadequacy and confusion about my grandma by driving the rental van like a maniac, which scared the crap out of my brother (who was for some reason moved to remind me that his childhood car accident has given him a lifelong fear of car accidents). Plus, we had to avoid the parkways, which do not permit commercial traffic... although maybe we wouldn't have been considered "commercial" anyway. "Can we drive on the Belt?" my brother asked the U-Haul woman. She peered at us through her glasses. "I wouldn't." As it was, they ended up undercharging me by about $50. The single best experience I have ever had with U-Haul.

It also occurred to me that Sunday was actually a great day. Weather favored the funeral, and then, back at the house, we were surrounded by family and friends, including a lot of people I hadn't seen in forever. Normally I can't stand that kind of stuff, but Sunday, everything felt right, and in addition to everyone else, I was glad to see Scott and Jansen, who unfortunately were paying multiple shiva calls during their visit to the Island. Of course, Monday got to be a bit much, already, although my friends Dana and Mindy came by, which was really nice, and they brought cider, as opposed to ten more pounds of bagels or danish. (Oy gevalt.)

Today, after going through my grandma's possessions for two days, I'm a little overwhelmed. It's too much. Much as I have felt in the right place the past few days, I am eager to get back to Cambridge. Like my grandmother, I'm a pack rat, but now I'm thinking that I should go through my own stuff, so that if anything happens to me, no one has to do with my stuff what had to be done with my grandma's stuff. Of course, the first thing I'll have to do when I get back is to sort through the subset of stuff I just took from her house, which seems to me to be a bit of an irony, but one I appreciate.

Just got back from dinner at Ben's, a local-institution-type deli. ("We cure our own corned beef; our chicken soup cures everything else.") So many people sent us food platters from Ben's that they started to call and ask whether we really wanted so much food; my parents made some of the platters magically turn into gift certificates instead, which covered dinner. And, last night, my mom's friends ordered in Italian for us. Remember what I said above about not eating right? I guess it's OK for the sense of family and community to override the training, for once. *burp*

Day 130: Laughter

Four more miles this morning. The autumn weather continues in spectacular fashion.

Due to poor planning, my iPod battery gave out in the middle of Car Talk, but other entertainments awaited. As I was running past one of my alma maters (almas mater?), Harry B. Thompson Middle School, a gym class was in progress. About 20 kids were huffing across the playing field. One of them spied me in the road and called out: “Wanna jog with us? It’s fun!” I laughed out loud.

I remember one day at Thompson: classes ended, and we went out to get on our buses. But our regular bus wasn’t there; a suspiciously old bus, and a suspiciously old driver, awaited us. I stepped up into the bus, quickly assessed the driver as boozy, turned around, and walked home. I had never done that before, and Thompson seemed awfully far from my house, but I knew the way, and the weather was nice, and I was up for an adventure. Now, of course, the distance (less than three-quarters of a mile) was covered in but an eyeblink.

Now: I have to do some work. Dozens of e-mails to read, projects hanging in midair… I have to stay on top of all of that. Family, running, and work, don’t you know.

Day 129: Detour

It is a confusing time.

I am training for a marathon, which is two weeks from today. I have a crippling amount of stuff to deal with at work, and all the traveling I've been doing has been distracting me.

And my grandmother died.

Many of my friends knew that Beatrice Gold was not the typical 91-year-old grandmother. She was very close with me and my brother, e-mailing us every day. I remember when I asked her once, maybe about 10 years ago, if she'd like a computer. "No," she said, thinking as usual that whatever I was proposing would involve making a fuss, and she never liked to make a fuss. I ignored her, and soon she was e-mailing everyone. Before that, during my childhood, she shaped my love of all things transportation; she took me all over New York on the subway, and we had countless adventures. She was always unquestioning, uncritical, and unceasingly loving, and I loved her for that. She delighted in meeting my friends and remembered every detail of their lives: who was together with whom, who was changing jobs... she forgot nothing. Her loss is profound. And because my family is very small and we have had the good fortune not to experience death during nearly my entire lifetime, it's especially difficult.

I was in Chincoteague, Virginia, on Friday morning when my dad called with the news. I figured he was calling to rib me about the Sox having pulled off a remarkable recovery in Game 5 of the ALC, roaring back from 7-0 with two out in the seventh to beat Tampa Bay, 8-7. (He e-mailed me after the score reached 7-0: "Maybe next year." Then he went to sleep and missed the comeback, which I also missed, because I was so exhausted that I couldn't stay up.) But no such luck.

I had been planning to fly straight to New York on Friday, to visit my grandma, and then to return to Boston on Saturday. Instead, I flew back to Boston, packed the car with some appropriate stuff, and drove to Long Island, arriving at about 8:30. I actually took the time for a short run during my brief Cambridge stopover: it was cathartic.

I also did my last long run yesterday morning. It was supposed to be 15 miles, according to the plan, but Carson had advised knocking it down to 12 miles. Conditions were good, but I was not really in the mood to run, and I didn’t carbo-load properly in the days beforehand, and my right leg ached, so I completed only 10.5 miles, although I took a full mile for my cooldown walk. Picked up my brother and his fiance from JFK in the evening. My cousin also arrived from Phoenix; they, my parents, and my aunt and uncle all went for dinner. Spanish food. Not bad.

Today was the funeral, with a simple graveside service. An unexpectedly large crowd showed up, including some cousins with whom I was not acquainted. I saw my great-grandmother’s grave for the first time; I remember her very faintly, and I recall that when she died, my grandmother covered the mirrors in her apartment with sheets. (My mother did the same thing at her house today.) They say this rabbi officiated at the funeral of Alan King.

Then came the first day of what is called “sitting shiva,” where a massive amount of food is laid on and guests are invited to come by and share happy memories. I saw many of my parents’ friends, some for the first time in years upon years. Josh sent a soup platter and other items, and Leah also sent a package of food despite sitting shiva for her own grandmother. Amazingly wonderful. Crystal and Finn (and Kevin) announced their intention to drive from Boston, which moved me tremendously, but I insisted that they not make the journey on my account, and that just their offer to do so meant as much to me as if they had made the trip.

In all, more than 30 of my friends have been in touch to support me through this – and Scott and Jansen came to the house today from the city, which really boosted me. Thank you to everyone for your love, comfort, kind words, and offers to help. It has been a very strange time, and I haven’t been sure what to say or what to think.

I did have one moment of clear thinking, on Friday, after I ran on the Minuteman Bikeway, with no iPod to distract me from the red, orange, and yellow leaves drifting gently down from the azure sky. It occurred to me that running was one way for me to leave all the tumult of the world behind and just go out into the distance, if only for a short while. My grandmother was dead, I thought. But for four more miles, I was alive.

Life

My grandmother, Beatrice Gold, has died.

I am with family in New York. More soon.

Day 125: Nice Ass(ateague)

Or, taking it on the Chin(coteague).

Yes, I'm back in Maryland. Or Virginia. At Chincoteague National Wildlife Refuge. And Assateague Island National Seashore. Funny how that works.

Flew in the morning. Worked a bit in the afternoon. Ran 4. Dinner with colleagues. And now yet another presidential debate. At least the Sox get to rest a bit. They might still win. (Might.)

Day 124: Whole lotta Volp

12+ hours at the office today, but I got a lot done. And fortunately, I ran (4 miles) before work. I was so in the zone that as I set off, Katie had to yell at me a few times before I noticed her -- she had just finished her run as I was starting (about 6:45).

And that's about it. Tomorrow: to Maryland and Virginia via Pennsylvania, a four-state day. Eeexcellent.

Day 123: Taper

So I'm into the taper. Today is a holiday (Columbus Day), and I thought about getting on the bike for a leisurely ride; I haven't biked since September 16th. But then I thought about staying home and drinking tea and catching up on things like laundry and bill-paying, and biking finished in second place.

Although the worst of the physical training is now over, they say the taper is when it starts to get tough mentally: not running so much, after running so much, plays havoc with the psyche. It is during this time, I guess, that I'll have to focus on rest, sleep, and relaxation. Difficult with everything else going on, and maybe even more difficult than the physical side. I have to admit that I had planned a more comprehensive, serious approach to training, including more biking, swimming, and a far better approach to nutrition (the approach I adopted: devour everything in sight, as per usual practice). Regardless, I am here, and now I have to get ready for the Main Event. That they say you shouldn't run for a month after a marathon, despite the training plan calling for a 3-miler the day after a 20-miler, merely underscores how vastly greater a challenge it is to tack on those last 6.2 miles on race day. I'm reminded of Rodney Dangerfield's line in "Back to School," toward the end, where he has to take an oral exam to avoid getting expelled and the punctilious business professor gleefully unloads an impossibly convoluted question: "Piece of cake!"

(Carson is already telling me that after consulting with his even crazier friend Rich, I should bump next week's 15-miler down to a 12-miler.)

So I soldier on. Fortunately, the legs are recovering well. I have already been up and down the stairs a lot this morning working on the laundry, and I have been able to negotiate them better than, say, the Bush administration might have done. I remember that after I ran my first 5K (of the 'modern era') back in December, I could barely handle the stairs. Of course, immediately after that race, I helped Sean shovel out his driveway... and his neighbors'. And recall that that 5K had been delayed due to blizzard. Hmm. Always gotta leave something in the tank.

Speaking of which, tonight: pumpkin beer and Game Three!

Day 122: Applefest

Last weekend was the Applefest half-marathon, in which I did not run, because although a 12-miler was part of the training plan, I was advised that the Bar Harbor half was enough for me in terms of races.

Today featured an early-morning short run with Rachel... I recorded it as 3.15 miles. I was a little leery of running at all today because of what I expected would be horrifying knee and leg pains, but I wasn't as stiff as I feared when I woke up (I wore the shin and knee covers last night), and the run was actually OK. My benchmark for leg pain remains how I felt after a long flight to Boise and a long drive to Sun Valley after a long run... I could barely walk up and down the staircase at the hotel. Today, I stiffened up at various times during the day, but after loosening up, I was able to walk, and even to negotiate stairs. Fantastic.

The foliage on the Minuteman Bikeway is starting to look lovely. We stopped at Spy Pond for a few minutes to take in the morning view. Again, fantastic fall weather. (I wore my New York City Marathon shirt, which arrived via the mails.)

The morning short run was followed by a gorge-ous brunch at S&S, followed by a short mission to the Back Bay, and then apple-picking in Stow. After enduring a long, long traffic jam on the way into the Disneyland-like orchard, we made our way in and asked where we should go. "You show up late in the afternoon, late in the season, and expect apples?" the guy in the booth asked, incredulously. But he lowered his voice and told us to walk up the hill, which we did, and were rewarded with enough apples to fill two bags. Unfortunately, the cider-donut line was WAY too long even to contemplate, but fortunately, I had earlier procured two chocolate donuts from Verna's, my neighborhood fixture, and we feasted on those as we returned to Cambridge. CBC was out of pumpkin-beer growlers (ALL growlers, actually)... but we'll return.

Tomorrow: Game Three!

Note: according to my computations, I burned 2,500 calories during yesterday's 20.25-miler. Frightening. Carson burned something like 5,000 calories during most days of the bike trip... but he was covering 80 or 90 or 100 miles!

Also: THREE WEEKS until the marathon. For those interested in watching along the course... stay tuned for some notes on how best to position yourselves!

Day 121: A week for the strong

I ran TWENTY MILES. But first, the news:

Friday was, fortunately, a rest day. My brother and I spent it in Brooklyn with my grandmother, and we had a nice time. At dinner with my parents, I ate pasta, pasta, and more pasta, and... "are you eating those garlic knots?" Later in the evening, my Phoenix aunt and uncle turned up at the house.

This morning, I set out on the epic final long-long-long training run. Out of the development, along Woodbury Road, and then up the LIE service road to Round Swamp Road... then down to Bethpage State Park, up to Jericho Turnpike, back to the LIE service road, and back to Syosset, with a few detours and extra blocks during the way. It actually worked out to be 20 miles and a quarter: WOW. Sunny, cloudless day, temperature rising from about 50 at the start to close to 70... I removed my hat and gloves as I went along. Didn't drink all the fluid I had with me or eat all the gels, which I guess is a good sign.

After about an hour I realized I needed to pee, which hasn't happened on the long runs before due to careful pre-running preparations. I frowned as I considered my options, but I realized that this was supposed to be a training run, which meant training for all aspects of the marathon: the running and the ancillary stuff. So I ducked into the woods and peed, and resumed running. No problem... in fact, I felt a lot better. So now, if I need to stop and pee during the marathon, I should know what to do. Mostly, pee. Also, as I ran along, I became less shy about being just a tad gassy from all the pasta. Hey... YOU run 20 miles and see what happens!

Traffic on Round Swamp Road was heavier than I'd figured on, and many of the drivers seemed to react with astonishment on seeing me in the road, running against traffic. The Minuteman Bikeway this ain't. I saw only a few other runners and bikers... all of whom insisted on waving at me, California-style. Uh, shared community? (Freaks! ... Oh, all right... just kidding.)

Toward the end of the run, as with my near-20-miler two weeks ago, my legs became very leaden, and it was difficult to finish. But I did. I even walked for about 10 minutes afterward, before sitting down, to make sure I would be OK. That was hard. My knees on both sides were very sore and tender; for the rest of the day, I'll have trouble walking, and I'm not looking forward to all the time I'll be spending cooped up in the car this afternoon: first to Brooklyn, to see everyone all together at my grandma's before my brother hits JFK to head home to LA, and then back to Cambridge. Oy.

Listening to the news during the drive to New York, one of the anchors remarked that it has truly been "a week for the strong." It's more true than she realized -- the game of life is tough... they say that no one gets out alive. We'll see.

Day 119: Escape

Sometimes there's just so much going on that spending a few minutes out on the road really is a way to escape... from everything.

This morning I woke up, packed up the car, and hit the road. I had to stop at work for a little while because my work computer had evidently gotten jammed up on something and I wasn't able to connect to it remotely. So I unfroze it. But the time required to do this meant that I couldn't run in the morning... I would have woken up earlier, but I thought I needed at least a modicum of sleep.

Drove to Brooklyn, actually making good time, and spent the day there with my grandmother, my brother, and my parents. Things seem sort of stable for the moment but obviously not good. The social worker came for a little while and I eavesdropped on her talking quietly with my grandma about what happens from here. Very strange.

One bright spot is that my dad and brother and I took a break and went down to the corner to Cuccio's, the bakery that has since childhood supplied me with chocolate-chip cookies and other goodies. Even though the neighborhood is now mostly Russian, at least the few Italians who run Cuccio's are still around, including the old, old woman who sits in the chair behind the counter, surrounded by groaning shelves of pastries (which in itself is weird -- who buys all that stuff, and do they throw out a lot of it and make fresh stuff?). I got cookies, my brother got a danish, my dad got a donut for himself and had a cream puff custom-manufactured for my mom, and when the old woman said, "There's nothing better than a good cup of coffee," and put on a fresh pot, my dad got some coffee, too. I went across the street to Rite Aid, which used to be a Key Food, and it almost made me cry that there were five brands of good old seltzer on offer (Seagram's, Schweppes, Canada Dry, Perrier, and Pellegrino) -- in most of the country, you cannot get even one.

Drove back to Long Island in the evening, and finally there was time for a run, which once again was done at sunset, for the third time this week. At one point as I went along (4.1 miles), I noticed that the pink glow of the sky matched the hue of the streetlights coming on. The iPod was blaring in my ear, cars with lit headlights hurtled by, I wondered about my grandma, work e-mails were piling up by the dozen, and with each step -- almost 500 miles now, since I started the marathon training -- my whole body pounded into the ground... but that moment of pink was even better than the seltzer and cookies: the best time of the day.

Day 118: In the dark

Running togs on, I was literally heading out the door when the phone rang. "Hey." It was Katie. "Have you run yet today?" She was on the commuter train, heading home.

It was already close to sunset. "No," I said. And then, cautiously, "I've never run in the dark."

Well, I waited for Katie, and we ran in the near-dark, followed by the dark. Almost halfway into the 4-miler, at Spy Pond, we spied Erik(-2) and Julie, and stopped to chat with them for a bit. It was spooky during the run back along the Minuteman Trail, but hey, it's October. Cricket-song and other outdoor noises accompanied us as we chugged along. "This reminds me of summer camp!" I said. "Cool!" Katie said. I had to remind her: "I hated summer camp." "What do you mean?" Katie demanded: "Didn't everyone like Girl Scout Camp?" Only the cookies, Katie.

Tomorrow morning: back to New York, to join my grandmother, parents, and brother. Even my aunt and uncle will be coming in from Phoenix. Not sure what will happen next... still in the dark, I suppose.

Bonus: I've been assigned Wave Start #2 for the race, which means my gun goes off at 10:00 (so to speak).

Day 117: Dusk

I remember back in June running back and forth over the bridges of Pittsburgh at sunset, watching the skies redden and the shadows lengthen. It wasn't quite as glamorous at dusk today, haunting my usual four miles along the Minuteman Bikeway, but I'll pit the vista at Spy Pond against the towers of Steel City any evening.

(I would have run in the morning, but the Sox game meant I got to sleep late, and I thought that waking up super-early would have been the wrong approach to the day.)

Having yesterday as a rest day actually has helped to make a big difference in my knees and in the non-knee areas of my legs. I felt for the most part as though I was running on fresh(er) legs. Have I mentioned that since I started running last November -- and this may sound ridiculous, but it's true, and I lament not realizing until too late that photographic evidence might have been felicitous -- my legs actually have grown new muscles? For real. Think tree trunks. Yes.

Now I'm watching Tom Brokaw try to physically insert himself between Barack Obama and John McCain; John's pounding his fists on Barry's skull-bone, and Obama looks like he's reaching inside his suit jacket for a derringer. I'm so happy that with all the turmoil the world is now going through, we can always rely on good old American politics as one of the true constants of the universe.

(Reminds me of the dialogue from Star Trek VI. Klingon General Chang: "I am constant as the northern star!" Bones: "I'd give real money if he'd shut up!")

Day 116: Bay slays Rays (?)

A nice night for nine innings of hardball happiness at friendly Fenway.

First: yesterday. I jetted to New York in the morning and spent a nice few hours with my mom and grandma in Brooklyn. We sat around the kitchen table eating -- what else? -- Bagel Boss bagels, thick with cream cheese. "These are better than usual," my grandmother quipped, and indeed they were: soft, chewy, and eminently satisfying. I flew home in the evening, and we'll see what happens. My brother flew from L.A. today and will be going to Brooklyn tomorrow.

Now: today. It got pretty cold (and in fact, it's cold now, after midnight as I write this), and a lump formed in the collective throat of the Fenway Faithful after Okajima's "okie-dokie" pitch failed to fool the Angels in the eighth, but the bottom of the ninth was worth the (staggering) price of admission. We won! Now: on to the pennant, where our once-and-always left fielder, Jason Bay, will doubtless continue terrorizing the unusually successful Rays of Tampa Bay, a team name and location that will probably always sound foreign to the purists of the game. It's funny; my brother saw the Dodgers clinch their division series in L.A. over the weekend, and I just saw the Sox win their division series, and they may yet meet in the playoffs. Manny, Nomar, Derek Lowe back in Boston? Managed by Joe Torre? Stranger things may have happened, but I can't think of any of them.

... Isn't this a running blog? Never a better day for a rest. (As per the plan, of course.)

Day 115: On a wing and a prayer

Four miles at dawn. Now, on to Brooklyn.

Day 114: Inter arma enim silent leges

Training for the marathon has been the most regimented part of my life for the past few months. I consider myself fairly undisciplined, and motivation for various endeavors is often a problem in general -- but sticking with the training plan has really helped me to focus. Unfortunately, there aren't training plans for the other parts of my life: anything -- or nothing -- goes, as usual.

Per the plan (or, as I call it with Katie, the 'regimen,' which is a distinct part of a total-life 'plan'), I completed a dozen more miles this morning. Would have made it a baker's dozen, but around mile 5 I started to worry that I was going to have some stomach troubles, so I decided to turn around at (what I guessed was) mile 6 instead of mile 6.5. Turned out to be a false alarm, but better to be safe than sorry.

Somewhat in the same vein, Carson and I made plans to do a 40- or 50-mile bike ride tomorrow to take advantage of the sparkling Boston autumn (I reasoned that 50 miles pedaling has got to equal 4 miles running). But the plans were suspended: my grandmother is unwell and I will jet down to New York tomorrow for the day, to be with her and my mother. Sometimes you just have to sweep everything aside to address what is truly important, and this is one of those times.

Day 113: 30 days

Five more pre-dawn treadmill miles at the Austin hotel. No super-duper-extra leg room on the flight back home -- just the regular amount -- which means my legs are in fact a little stiff as I write this, but I'll live. It might have been nice if the escalator had been working on the way up from the Davis Square T station, but I'm used to hauling all my stuff up multiple flights of stairs, aren't I? Aren't you? I asked Julie -- she boarded my Red Line train at Downtown Crossing and we sat together for the rest of the ride to Davis. She just looked at me like I'm nuts. But it's SHE who's nuts. Plus, her husband, Erik(-2). And her brother, Eric(-4). Actually, I don't know how her brother spells his name.

(Erich(-3) is Michelle's husband. Michelle, how's the umlaut working out?)

Lots of work ahead for Ike recovery. On the JetBlue flight, at least I had Judge Judy to crack me up.

Bonus: Going through the week's worth of mail waiting for me at home, I discovered the 2008 New York City Marathon Official Handbook. Sleepy... so sleepy.

Day 112: One month to go

Six more early-morning miles here in Austin. And only one more month of preparation to go.

It's an interesting time. Soon, the taper will be at hand. Soon, I'll be able to focus on rest and nutrition. But until then, I have a lot more running to do, including three more long runs: 20, 12, and 15 miles. It's funny how my attitude toward running has changed: this morning, on CNN, there was a segment highlighting a woman who has run two half-marathons, and my reaction was, so what? I actually had to think a moment before remembering that not long ago, the idea of running even five miles was a ludicrous consideration.

Running has become important to me, and I have taken pains (and suffered pains) to ensure that I have enough time to do my training. Today there was an article in the New York Times highlighting the importance of relaxing during running, and I always do try to relax. It can be a little stressful to run in the morning, knowing that you've got to finish up and shower and get dressed and start a long day of work. It was particularly stressful this morning, in the Residence Inn fitness center, because Fox News was blaring on the TV in front of me (and the Today Show was blaring on the TV next to me, causing even more auditory confusion). But it is also a respite, when it goes well.

And now, back to Biden and Palin. Yeesh.