Wednesday, March 14, 2012


The Strip, Las Vegas March 2012

Las Vegas hotels are so dark you can never tell whether it is day or night. If you escape from your meeting long enough to venture outside by day, the heat and brightness seem made up, like just another facade in a city that tells lies. Or sells lies. There's a mall with a Hogwarts ceiling and Roman statues and massive spiral staircases, with Prada and Louis Vuitton, and into this breathtaking space are what seems to be aliens from Planet Shorts and Ill-Fitting T-Shirts, where the drinking of beer while you shop is just normal. But the nights are best, all lights and vulgarity and lawlessness. The French Canadian circus performers rule. Neon reflections and random volcanoes and fountain displays fend off even a millisecond of boredom. It is loud and it stinks of smoke. I rather hate it, actually.

The Strip, Las Vegas, March 2012
But the nearby gargantuan mall was nice last weekend when my luggage was gone for days. I spent one lunch break running through the Roman Hogwarts Wealth Mart finding the ultimate evil: The Nike Store. At the very least I had to have some running clothes. Oh, and a cute outfit from nearby Banana Republic was just plain necessary. Plus a change of undies and all that.

The thing is, Overload, with a capital O, is not conducive to being fully present to one's running. Or one's anything at all.
Overload, Las Vegas, March 2012

My trip to Las Vegas was a corporeal rendering of what plagues me all too often. Not enough sleep, not enough quiet, too much to do, too much to want, too little time. My one run in the midst of the chaos was unpleasant, too fast for my own good, and on a treadmill in a loud gym down the hall from one of the many bars. Then I came home, got gastroenteritis and worked a 16 hour "shift" followed by a 14 hour "shift".

So, I ask myself the million dollar question (staying on the theme of excess): How the heck will I run a marathon that I can be proud of in the 7 weeks left for me to train when Overload keeps swatting me down like an insignificant speck? 

It seems a luxurious dilemma compared to the absolute health devastation I've witnessed and tried to heal a bit at work the last few days. It is definitely a better dilemma than wondering if I should roll over in bed lest I puke. But it means a lot to me. I don't have endless years left to run. I have certain goals. I can't decide just yet. Maybe I'll run a long one and just see how it goes. Maybe I'll settle for a half and train again for the big one in the fall. 

If I was more adventurous, maybe Las Vegas would've won me over, and then maybe I'd have gotten really lucky.

If I would've gambled and in that case, if I would've won big?
1) 6 months of uninterrupted marathon training
2)All of the LVB Sonatas under my fingers
3) Bake cookies every single day for my kids

Not necessarily in that order.

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