The Marathon Effect

On Sunday I crashed and I crashed hard.


On the drive from Chicago to Naperville I slept in the car. When I got back to Naperville I took an hour and a half full bed nap. That's PJs, sheets and covers, head pillow, lights off, full REM sleep, and some weird dream that only I would have. After my nap I sat on the couch and became part of the alarming weekend televiewing statistic. I watched a total of 4 HOURS of television! Two dedicated to the backup Steeler game - Bears vs Seahawks; And two for Iron Man 2. I steamed some mussels for dinner, said goodnight to The Boyfriend, and fell asleep for good at 8 PM. Yes, I'm an early to bed, early to rise kind of girl, but 8 PM is generally a bedtime reserved for toddlers.


Why so tired? I don't know. The Boyfriend came up with a diagnosis last night though. He said I was having a lapsed marathon effect. Really? 


I started to think about it ... In the past I've not been one to embrace the whole veg-out and relax phase after a big event. But that's because I'm actually not one to have after-party "effects" or hangovers either. This could be because I don't let myself stop going after the party has ended, but regardless, I'm usually good to go the next day. After the big 10.10.10 marathon, I thought I was just as invisible. And when I should have been recovering, I thought I could keep going. 


After I finished the 26.2 miles, I swallowed my pain, fatigue and nauseousness, and attended post-marathon parties with fellow runners, family and friends, and Ronald McDonald of course.

And after the marathon parties were over, it was only 8:30 PM. My Mom wasn't ready to call it quits, and I wasn't either, so we had a night cap at the Hilton Hotel. The only thing that ceased that party was the smelly feet of other marathon runners propped up on the tables surrounding ours. Seriously? I got showered and changed. You can too!


On Monday I took a "critically injured" day from work so I could recover. I didn't so much recover though. While injured and unable to move normally, I spent the day with my Mom downtown. We did take it easy in the morning, but in the afternoon we set out to do some shopping. And not just any shopping, my Mom took me shopping for my wedding gown. Ten dresses, four nah sayers, and three hours later, I made one big decision at Vera Wang. And then we had a celebratory lunch at Spiaggia. No pictures of the dress, can't let The Boyfriend see. He got to join us for some Chianti though.

On Tuesday I was back to work. And on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday I reincorporated the early morning 5-mile runs into my daily routine. 


Friday night I made my way into the city for my best friend Meredith's wedding rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Had .5 too many glasses of Pinot Grigio at PJ Clark's, and called it a night. 


Saturday I made sure to get my run in at 5:00 AM before I got my hair done by a Snookie look-a-like at 7:00 AM. Then around 9 AM, I sucked in my pooch, held my breath for four hours, felt the pain of Scarlett O'Hara, and lined up with my other best friends to cheer for Meredith and Adam as they said their "I Dos!"

That is one happy and beautiful bride! 

Yes, I changed out of my bridesmaid dress. I couldn't breath, especially one chorizo taco deep into the evening. And I wanted to slip into something that I could do public aerobics in. By the way, my moves were so good that evening that a wedding guest literally asked if I was a dancing instructor and I could teach her daughter. Sorry lady ... I'm just a lowly social media enthusiast!

On Sunday after being awoken at 6 AM by a strange banging sound on floor 9 of the Sheraton Hotel and Towers (I deserve a comp!), I went for a run along the Lake with The Boyfriend, had brunch with the other wedding guests, packed up to head home, sat down in the car to leave the city... and just like that my body and mind gave up.


Monday the hangover continued and this morning, while wiping the sleep out my eyes after another 9:00 AM bedtime and eight-and-a-half-hour slumber, I have to admit that I had a pretty awful case of lapsed marathon fatigue.   


I'm feeling a little better this evening. But perhaps that's because a little rest was in order. Perhaps it's okay to spend a day on the couch and be part of the national televiewing statistic. Perhaps I should even take a break from running tomorrow. Novel idea. After all ... according to my quasi-marathon coach/work colleague Chuck, I only have two weeks to recover before I have to start training for the next Marathon. Disney World in January? The Boyfriend's double worst nightmare! But that's another story ...


Lo.