I had my first marathon training run yesterday. I am running with a class so that I will be motivated to get up and run at 8 am on a Saturday morning when I would much rather be in bed dreaming of Buffalo Chicken Nachos. It was 93 degrees out. I think my sneakers melted to the ground at one point. It was brutal. I ended up running with a slower group because…..I’m slower, but at least I was able to be at the front of the slow pack. So that’s…….yeah, that is still really bad. That said I made it the 5.2 miles we had to go in Central Park. It wasn’t pretty, but I think that if I train really slow for the first month of this I’ll be all set for the longer runs in October when it isn’t going to be Kenya weather. Though I now know why those guys run so fast in the cold. If they can train in stupid heat like yesterday it must be 1000 times easier to breath when they get to the 45 degree weather of New York in November.
Due to the crazy amount of heat….I made a decision today. Time to lose the hair. I struggled all morning, but in the end it was just time to get rid of the mop I called my hair and have a more aerodynamic head. Overall I think I did a good job (with the small exception of two spots where I may have removed a tad too much…..that or i’m going bald which would really fucking suck. That was my biggest fear in doing this that at the age of 30 I would start seeing spots with no hair. Now I’m freaked out. I really hope I pressed down a little too hard on those spots.) The bald spots feel like a shaved dog. Very unnerving.
So now I’m 30, bald, and the fat kid in the running group. Who thought running a marathon would be so depressing? I should have stayed shaggy, eaten a few bags of Cooler Ranch Doritos, and watched a Law & Order SVU marathon (ie, TNT) At least then I would feel bad about myself in private.
Here is the other problem, I don’t know where my hair, hair stops and my back hair begins….yet another downside of getting old. That sort of thing never happened when I was 24. It is a delicate balance not to infringe upon either’s territory.
Here is to hoping the cropping of the hair makes me fast, lighter, and the bald spots grow in….I really don’t want to get Rogaine for two small bald spots, but……I will.
So…..5.2 miles down………..like fucking…..387 to go.