The Runner's Wife
My husband has a mistress. She's been there since the earliest days of our marriage, but I've noticed her influence steadily growing. And she is a sneaky witch, let me tell you. Slowly, insidiously, he's spent more and more time with her, thinking about her, and preparing for her.
I'm referring to running, of course. It started out simply enough, with a marathon here and there. Then it became marathons at regularly spaced intervals. Then it became vacations scheduled around marathons. Now I'm tossing off terms like, "Western States 100" and "50 milers" like it's something everybody should know about, not just .01% of the population operating 4 standard deviations from the norm.
Did you know that there is a whole cult of running geeks probably operating in your neighborhood? They are instantly recognizable by their uniform: khakis, North Face, or Columbia Sports pants teamed with running shoes. Their T-shirts and/or jackets are inevitably monogrammed or emblazoned with some race or other. The longer, the better. Ball caps, while optional, frequently espouse a race such as the NYC marathon, Boston marathon, Texas Sunmart, etc. But my all time favorite is the dinner plate masquerading as a belt buckle: it's awarded to finishers of the Western States 100. And yes, it is a race conducted in California in which the contestants run a consecutive 100 miles....within 24 (silver buckle) or 30 (brass buckle) hours.
My man has more shoes, which require more maintenance, than I do. These get rotated on a regular basis and require airing out, not to mention get stuffed with newspaper when they get really wet. There are gobs of wadded up newspaper floating all over my garage on a daily basis.
There is an entire wardrobe consisting of nearly (but not quite) identical shirts, singlets, shorts, jock straps, socks and caps. These all serve various arcane purposes: running in the rain, in the sun, on trails, on pavement, on hills, on straight paths.
My husband, while in high geek mode, is consumed with the details of calories, protein, carbohydrates, lipids, acids, vitamins, and strange shakes with titles like, "recovery drink", "Isopure", and "Perpetuem Extreme Endurance Fuel".
I recently met another runner's widow (similar to golf widows) at a get together of geeks after a race called the "Dizzy 50's" in Huntsville, Alabama. She smiled at me, recognizing a fellow spouse in arms. We dug into our onion rings and shared stories of 4:30 a.m. wakeups, 12:30 a.m. "training runs" and how to untangle jock straps from the washer. We looked over at our spouses, eating their low carb white bean chili and getting rehydrated after sweating all over 50 miles of trails and toasted them with our drinks.
It's not that bad, she said to me, once you get past the smell. But what you really have to watch out for is the shoe obsession. Once they start to keep logs, you're a goner. But until then, enjoy your designated driver. (Runner's can't have alcohol the night before a race, it dehydrates them.) And brush up on your pasta recipes, she offered as a parting piece of advice.
I went home that evening, strangely content after sharing my woes with a fellow runner's wife. But I woke up later that night, a question burning in my brain. What the hell is gu, anyway?
I'm referring to running, of course. It started out simply enough, with a marathon here and there. Then it became marathons at regularly spaced intervals. Then it became vacations scheduled around marathons. Now I'm tossing off terms like, "Western States 100" and "50 milers" like it's something everybody should know about, not just .01% of the population operating 4 standard deviations from the norm.
Did you know that there is a whole cult of running geeks probably operating in your neighborhood? They are instantly recognizable by their uniform: khakis, North Face, or Columbia Sports pants teamed with running shoes. Their T-shirts and/or jackets are inevitably monogrammed or emblazoned with some race or other. The longer, the better. Ball caps, while optional, frequently espouse a race such as the NYC marathon, Boston marathon, Texas Sunmart, etc. But my all time favorite is the dinner plate masquerading as a belt buckle: it's awarded to finishers of the Western States 100. And yes, it is a race conducted in California in which the contestants run a consecutive 100 miles....within 24 (silver buckle) or 30 (brass buckle) hours.
My man has more shoes, which require more maintenance, than I do. These get rotated on a regular basis and require airing out, not to mention get stuffed with newspaper when they get really wet. There are gobs of wadded up newspaper floating all over my garage on a daily basis.
There is an entire wardrobe consisting of nearly (but not quite) identical shirts, singlets, shorts, jock straps, socks and caps. These all serve various arcane purposes: running in the rain, in the sun, on trails, on pavement, on hills, on straight paths.
My husband, while in high geek mode, is consumed with the details of calories, protein, carbohydrates, lipids, acids, vitamins, and strange shakes with titles like, "recovery drink", "Isopure", and "Perpetuem Extreme Endurance Fuel".
I recently met another runner's widow (similar to golf widows) at a get together of geeks after a race called the "Dizzy 50's" in Huntsville, Alabama. She smiled at me, recognizing a fellow spouse in arms. We dug into our onion rings and shared stories of 4:30 a.m. wakeups, 12:30 a.m. "training runs" and how to untangle jock straps from the washer. We looked over at our spouses, eating their low carb white bean chili and getting rehydrated after sweating all over 50 miles of trails and toasted them with our drinks.
It's not that bad, she said to me, once you get past the smell. But what you really have to watch out for is the shoe obsession. Once they start to keep logs, you're a goner. But until then, enjoy your designated driver. (Runner's can't have alcohol the night before a race, it dehydrates them.) And brush up on your pasta recipes, she offered as a parting piece of advice.
I went home that evening, strangely content after sharing my woes with a fellow runner's wife. But I woke up later that night, a question burning in my brain. What the hell is gu, anyway?
posted by Kirsten at 3:39 AM
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