Running for Wedding Planning

I meant to write this post months ago, in the throws of training for a (now complete) Half Marathon. Now on the heels of the New Year, I feel inclined to revisit my experiences this year, and this milestone in particular. As it happened, I shared my running experiences with only a few people, fairly self-conscious throughout the whole process and mystified as to why I had signed up.

DNA shoes for the running Geneticist

Outwardly, I paid to run 13.1 miles for fitness, but inwardly I allowed myself to be swayed into registration to get a glimpse of understand into the limits of what my body could accomplish. I was in the middle of a very stressful period, having completed what felt like a marathon (no pun intended) of wedding venue tours and intense financial discussions, to finally book what I hoped would be the ideal location to wear my newly acquired White Dress without bankrupting myself. The location was secured only hours before flying 3,000 miles back to reality, and planning was put on hold again. Lapsing out of wedding planning mode gave way to a nervous anxiety in which I felt like I should be doing something, but what?

I have many runner friends, totally dedicated and awesome, who advocated running to me. Running, by all accounts, was the perfect way to clear your head, to think about exactly nothing, and that’s exactly what I wanted. With all the mental exertion of late, it was time for something physical.

In the beginning, I textbook trained, sticking to a rigorous schedule running up to 20 miles a week. That feeling of accomplishment when I pushed myself, all alone, to run farther then I ever had was peaceful. It’s a wonderful feeling actually, to know you are marching toward success slowly but surely. I liked to know unambiguously what steps should be taken, and lacking that elsewhere in my life, I was trying to create that with running. But little did I know that feeling I craved was much like walking up a downward escalator, what happens when you get to the top? You go down.

Leading up to the day of my half I barely slept at all. It didn’t help I was also sick, but the nerves prevented me from getting the rest I needed to get better faster. Being sick didn’t fit into my plan and jeopardized months of training. At the same time, it presented an easy out…the lurid prospect of not having to follow through without the social consequence of public failure. Who could blame a sick person for not running a marathon booked months ago?

Luckily, a friend stepped up to motivate me to push through, whether she knew it or not. During the race I wondered if I was using this activity to feel like I was accomplishing my goals without really accomplishing my goals. And so, disappointingly, after finishing my first half marathon I felt anything but accomplished. Why? I only felt tired. Defeated.

Now I understand that all this hunger to accomplish things without the satisfactory feelings has less to do with the literal things I do, and more with how I choose to feel about them. This is why everything wedding related that I tackle never feels done, I only mentally move on to the next stressful must-do thing without celebrating what I have already taken care of. How overwhelming! It was making the whole planning process feel like a chore, like an extra full time job rather than a dream come true. Running provided stress relief and an understanding of my state of mind at the same time…but it was so physically challenging that I may actually look to other forms of exercise in the future. I injured myself and spent the day after the Half hobbling around and avoiding stairs entirely…but maybe that’s just part of it, who knows.

As the new year approaches, I get nostalgic for resolutions and think more about accomplishments.  Changing my outlook about these accomplishments is now on my resolutions list for next year…more on that in the next post. Running was able to reinforce for me the idea that when you put your mind to something and be very proactive about it, you can accomplish very big things. I think Nike had it right after all: JUST DO IT.

Sio get your Gun

In the wonderful world of Groupon, you can try new and exotic activities for incredibly cheap. How can there be a downside that scenario? Unfortunately it’s incredibly easy to buy buy buy in a fit of excitement and lust for adventure and then return to reality some months later and never use the the thing; we’re too busy, forgetful, or chicken out. In the case of my first ever Groupon, having purchased only two in total to date, this is exactly what happened to me. After trying unsuccessfully to pass it off to someone else before the expiration date, I just abandoned it because I never had time to get out that part of town. So second go I had to do something when I had the time to go, interesting enough that I wouldn’t forget, and scary enough that I’d almost want to back out. Almost.

In some parts of the world, shooting a gun is a pretty down home, pedestrian activity. For a suburban California turned Bostonian twenty-something like me (age left intentionally ambiguous), a gun is something I only see in movies. I never thought I would ever pick one up, and blissfully assumed liberal states had no conceal and carry laws. Thanks Groupon, you’ve successfully corrupted my youth.

So down to the firing range I go, originally on a whim but now full of morbid curiosity. The “MFS,” or Mass Firearms School is kind of in the middle of nowhere, far outside of Boston where I’m annoyed I have to pay $2.75 in tolls and drive past far too many butcher shops and gas stations. The school itself is surprisingly small, and so is the only other girl in my Learn-to-Shoot class. There only four of us, however, so the tiny girl looks sidelong at her two tall guy friends thanks me for evening out the estrogen in the room. She’ll regret that comment later.

The problem with being the odd one out amongst a friendly threesome? I have to go first in everything. Our instructor has surprisingly affected speech and looks like an Army dude but speaks like a game show host and who is, somewhat disconcertingly, drinking the largest bottle of “Monster” I’ve ever seen. He shows us a laser gun and gives us three rules to try, demonstrating on me in front of the enthusiastic threesome, who seconds before were sniggering over their signed consent forms absolving the school from accidental deaths by (…yes they list them) but are now confidently nodding with their “this will be easy” eyes. I’m too taken aback by rule number 3 to really care, which is let it be a SURPRISE when the shot goes off. Wait, what? So I’m to just start shooting…but not know exactly WHEN I will be shooting at something. What he meant of course, was to slowly squeeze the trigger until it actually triggers, rather than squeeze to shoot. It became obvious when I tried to shoot something with the pistol for the first time. The trigger is much stiffer than you assume it to be from watching all those movies, and if I were to try and get it to trigger faster I would be applying so much force I’d probably move the gun too much and never hit my target. Better it be a surprise, then.

Pistol shooting

Practice once with a laser gun, and shockingly, that’s all it takes to get you on the firing range with real ammunition. Wait, seriously? We walk to the range donning eye and ear protection. It’s unfortunate the inside isn’t air conditioned like the rest of the school so in yesterday’s 90-degree weather it was a veritable oven. My goggles fog up immediately. He tries unsuccessfully to give me defogging strategies but in the spirit of fairness I’m first up again and time is up. We get to shoot three guns: a Pistol, a Revolver, and finally a Rifle, all from 15 feet away. I don’t know if I’m sweating because of the heat or because I’m nervous, but I line up my sights and get of my first shot. Excruciatingly slowly. Bang. Is it possible to hit yourself with the ejected casings cause….I somehow managed it.

Rifle Shooting

Ten shots is what I get for each gun, and it takes me ages. It goes like this: Plant feet. Line up sights. Finger on the trigger and Sssqqquuuueeeezzzeee…line up sights…Bang. Oh shit. After each gun we got a look at the paper targets up close. The other tiny girl was suddenly afraid of me. “I’d never want to piss you off…you’re deadly” she says. She didn’t say anything else to me after that. Her friends are much more enthusiastic but much less accurate shots.

She has archery skills. I have never shot anything in my life and yet…hey not that bad.

After shooting three different guns for the first time, my impressions  were not at all as expected. I thought I would feel exhilarated and empowered, full of adrenaline. Instead I felt like it was just a lot of work and concentration to steady the gun, think about my feet and the target and my hand positions all simultaneously. My shoulders and neck would tense, my arms would get sore from holding up the (heavier than expected) gun for ten minutes at a time. Not my idea of a recreational activity.

So would I do it again? Not sure. I didn’t enjoy it as much as I would have liked, too much anxiety surrounding the whole live fire thing. I would probably have more fun with paintball, although I was never any good at laser tag.  The only reason in my opinion to get licensed to carry a firearm is apparently in Massachusetts at least, you need a permit to carry pepper spray. So if I want to have legal pepper spray in my purse when I’m walking downtown Boston after a late night at the lab, I might want to take their course. But for now, me and guns are on a hiatus.

Revolver shooting