Fun With Marathon Training: The Punishment Jar

I just received an alert that there are 168 days until the Pittsburgh Marathon. I’ll be honest: My heart fluttered a little bit.

My reactions are getting less intense, though. For example, it’s been about a month since I’ve had a visible reaction to the words Pittsburgh or marathon. My friend Alyssa predicted that my nerves/excitement levels would be sort of a reverse bell curve: pretty intense nerves at the beginning (right when I signed up) and toward the end of training (as my first 26.2-mile race looms) but fairly level marathon-related emotions in between.

And that in-between time is where I am right now. I’m in a weird/tricky phase between the Hershey Half Marathon, which was on Oct. 19, and the start of marathon training, which will begin the last week of December or first week of January. Basically, I have to maintain a balance of recovery from Hershey, maintenance of my running fitness level (so I’m not starting from scratch when training begins), and avoidance of burnout (because I don’t want to push myself so hard now that I’m exhausted and sick of running eight weeks into my 18-week marathon training program). I’ve never done this maintenance-while-not-burning-out thing before, so I’m just playing it by ear and listening to my body. So far, so good.

So. I have 168 days until I see this sign again…

…and run on the other side of it this time (I’ve run the Pittsburgh Half Marathon twice, for anyone who didn’t know).

And I have about a month and a half until marathon training begins to take over my life. At least, I’ve heard that training can completely take over everything:
-time: waking up at 4 a.m. to knock out a mid-length run before work on a weekday
-schedules: like, “Oh, sorry, I can’t hang out Friday night. I have a long run on Saturday morning.”
-and even conversations. Especially conversations where running isn’t even being brought up…except by a runner who’s in the middle of training. (Believe me, I’ve never run a marathon, but I can talk about running a bit excessively!)

I’m fully prepared (as much as I can be, anyway) for training to take over those first two categories, but I really want to avoid talking people’s ears off about my marathon preparation. After all, I’m going to be training for this race for 18 long weeks, and most people will probably be completely sick of me by halfway through Week 2 if I let myself talk about “marathon this, marathon that” or “I did this training or that training.”

But fear not! I have a solution.

Enter the I Said Marathon Punishment Jar!

The solution!

Yes, this jar is (I hope) the answer to the potential problem of the verbalization of my marathon- and training-focused thoughts. Basically, every time I say the words marathon or training until the Pittsburgh Marathon (May 3, 2015), I will put a quarter in the jar. As you might be able to tell from that picture, I already have a few dollars in there.

Some rules/exceptions:
-It has to be an actual verbalization. I can write the words marathon and training if I want, but I can’t speak them around other people.
-The ONLY exception is if someone specifically asks me about the subject. Then I’m allowed to say the banned words. Why? Well, the purpose of the Punishment Jar is to prevent marathon talk from overtaking every conversation. But if someone wants to hear about it, I’m allowed to talk about it. (Also, how annoying would it be to have a marathon-related conversation with me during which I awkwardly try to come up with marathon/training synonyms so I can avoid saying the actual words? “Yes, the preparation for the 26.2-mile excursion is going well…”)
-The exception to the exception is if I go on and on and on after someone asks me about marathon training. Trust me, I’ll know when and if this happens. If I’m supplying every detail of a 5-mile mid-week training run, for example, I owe the jar a quarter.
-If you know me and if you happen to notice that I violate one of these rules, call me out on it! Even if you ask me about training and, 10 minutes later, I’m still droning on and on in a less-than-thrilling monologue, just say, “Hey, dude, put a quarter in that jar.”
-Not a rule (more of an alert): I will have to be cautious about using substitute words, like saying Pittsburgh instead of marathon, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

This isn’t supposed to be intense and legalistic; it’s just supposed to be a fun way for me to be aware of just how much I talk about the marathon. Yes, marathon training will, in all likelihood, take over my life this winter and spring. But that doesn’t mean I have to make it take over everyone else’s lives, too!

I’m looking forward to seeing how this Punishment Jar works out, even though I’m not sure where the collected money will go yet (I have 168 days to figure that out). Things will get really interesting after training actually starts, when I’ll actually have reasons to blurt out marathon- and training-related news at random moments. But I’m always up for a challenge, so bring it on!

View #1 (just to prove I’m not a crafter; I’m just a runner looking to get rid of my money every time I say the banned words)

View #2 (slight rotation)

View #3

A Pint-Sized Donation Goes a Long Way

When I was in college (which wasn’t that long ago), blood drives were held on campus every six or eight weeks. Other college students would man sign-up tables leading up to the blood drive, and I always avoided them if I could. Why? I guess I just didn’t want to donate blood! Plus, I figured enough other college students would sign up. If those volunteers tried to encourage me to sign up, I would laugh and joke as I walked by, “Haha, I don’t have any blood!”

Haha. Right.

But then came the summer of 2008. It was the summer between my junior and senior years of college. Right at the beginning of summer, my younger sister had a medical emergency and lost a lot of blood. In the hospital, she received four units of blood (that’s a lot), and, thank God, she was able to recover. At that time, it hit me in a personal way that blood donation is crucial. I was and am so grateful for those four units of blood – and the four people who donated them.

When I went back to college that fall for my senior year, I couldn’t wait for the first blood drive. Even though I wasn’t familiar with the process, I knew the unknowns would be worth it if my donation could help somebody else. I donated blood as often as I could during my senior year, and I have continued to donate when I’m able.

Why? Because it makes a difference.

The cost to donors is not much:
-time. There’s an initial form to sign, some basic questions to answer (mainly to check if it’s possible for a potential donor to give) and a quick finger prick to test iron levels. Then there’s the actual donation itself, which doesn’t take long at all. From filling out the initial form to the end of the donation, the total time is an hour on average.
-a pint of blood. That may sound like a lot, but in most cases, an adult human body can safely donate a pint of blood. Plus, bodies will replace this blood within several weeks (which is why donors have to wait a set amount of time before donating again).
-a bit of recovery time. Donors may feel a bit more tired than usual for a day or so, but that’s totally normal. People who exercise frequently will be encouraged not to do any heavy lifting after donating blood. Also, it may take several days for athletic performance to recover (so it’s not a great idea to donate right before a race or other important athletic event).
-and that’s it. No, really. That’s all, folks!

It’s a really simple process, and it’s not painful: There’s the quick finger prick, which is not even worth mentioning, and the needle, which is only a temporary feeling. Oh, and for you squeamish types, donors are allowed to look away! Nobody is forced to watch.

So if you’re considering becoming a blood donor but just aren’t sure, JUST DO IT! Seriously. It could save a life. Here are some tips:
-If you don’t know what blood type you have, don’t let that stop you! In fact, let it motivate you; it will give you a chance to find out your blood type. All blood is tested to confirm the type (even for people who know what type they are). Several weeks after my first donation, I received a blood donor card in the mail with my blood type on it. Very cool.
-Stay hydrated throughout the day and be sure to eat plenty before you donate. The first time I donated blood, I went with a friend who had consumed one cup of coffee all day; I had been drinking water and eating. Well, my donation went quickly and I was fine immediately after, but my friend’s experience wasn’t so smooth.
-Take your time recovering right after you donate. There are always snacks and juices for replenishment. Sit down, relax, eat cookies, and drink juice. Even if you don’t need it, it’s nice to know it’s there.
-Be totally honest on your questionnaires/forms and with the phlebotomists. If you’re getting over being sick or if you’re not feeling 100 percent for any reason, let them know. Here’s why: Donated blood will most likely be going to people with compromised immune systems, so it should be quality, uncompromised blood. All blood is screened anyway, but it will save time and resources if you and the phlebotomist determine that it would be best to hold off on donating for a health-related reason.
-If you’re not sure where to donate, do an Internet search (most blood banks have websites or at least contact information that’s posted online) or call a local hospital to find out where nearby donation sites are.

In fact, the company I work for held an on-site blood drive a few months ago (yay!!). My iron levels are usually borderline (and lately they’ve been on the “too low to donate” side of borderline), but I signed up for the blood drive and ate plenty of iron-rich foods in the weeks leading up to the blood drive. Well…

…my iron levels were high enough! I was ecstatic and could not stop grinning throughout the entire donation process.

***WARNING: Needle-in-arm picture below!***

Goodbye, pint of blood. I know you’ll do good work in your new home.

As expected, it was quick, not painful, and totally worth it. It means so much to me to be able to donate blood.

Me, myself, and I (minus a pint of blood) ready to drive home

That pint was for you, little sis. I love you!

Still grinning (with my post-donation bandaged arm and a thumbs-up)

In case I haven’t emphasized this enough: GO DONATE BLOOD! JUST DO IT! It could – and in all likelihood will – save a life.