Friday, December 12, 2008

"the scottish play"

to enter into a high mileage relationship with the asphalt, is not for the weak of arch, feeble of fridge, or those averse to spending extended periods of the day perching over porcelain. it is a pugilistic endeavour, where the final dress rehearsal does not involve breaking legs.

wardrobe and costume is crucial, particularly when training 'on location'. despite my readiness to fully acculturate to the climate and don a monogrammed tartan footie sleeper suit, access is denied for those in possession of too much north face.

cinderella's castle or the portland headlight; recreating a 'close enough' environment to the final performance is important- both are swarming with nikon-clad tourists and wailing children wearing (fleece) hats with animal ears on top.

ultimately, it is the countless "practice" miles remembered and shared (or not); the hershey squirt and subsequent abandon of underwear in a bathroom at the park, a faceplant-on-the-wooden-bridge at mile 18, or the fact that two blondes shuffling in sync get more honks than one, or one plus a brunette.

proper recovery is integral to repairing damaged muscles, lubricating the synovial joints, combatting a 2,400 calorie deficit, and becoming so paralytic that a suggestion to "audition" via lottery for new york, is actually taken seriously.

unfortunately while i did not develop a big, black, bruised toenail from all this marathon training, i incubated a rather juicy apostrophe shaped blister in my wool sock.

"out damn spot"- something to pick at later.

1 comment:

mansuetude said...

Oh Lady MacBeth! I thinketh you teaseth me with familiar sights and sounds... you should drag your foot through melted butter (like a lobster) ,,, and etc... looks like you two are having fun!

Glad you have electricity!