Levines Took Chicago (though actually not Lakeshore), by Todd

          I’ve done a lot of reflecting since my sisters and I ran the Chicago Marathon last weekend.  I realized, for instance, that it was a mistake ever to call this blog “Levines Take Lakeshore.”  Sam, Amy, and I certainly did “take” many parts of Chicago on Sunday including The Loop, Lincoln Park, Chinatown, and Pilsen.  But it turns out the marathon course does not once go onto Lakeshore Drive.  Woops

This whole experience, though, is one that will stick with me forever.  I say “whole experience” because years from now, when I think back to my first marathon, I know that it won’t just be memories of the race last Sunday that come to mind.  They say that at least half the battle in preparing for a marathon is just getting to the start line.  This must be true.

In the weeks since my last post multiple events happened that could have prevented me from getting to the start line last Sunday.  I had to seriously modify my training right when I was arriving at my peak mileage because of a two-week trip to Israel (I know, how tragic).  Thankfully, I was able to get in some runs in Jerusalem, which both maintained my fitness and took me to parts of the city I wouldn’t have otherwise seen! (As a side note, there’s a saying among runners in Jerusalem: “No matter where you’re going in Jerusalem, it is somehow always uphill.”  I can’t explain how, but this is completely true.)  My biggest scare though came a few weeks later when I developed tendonitis in my right foot just three weeks before the race.  My doctor advised me to do little to no running until the race, and she warned me that I may still experience pain come race day.  Fortunately the combination of rest and adrenaline rendered me pain-free during the race!

I’m trying to make the point here that running a marathon is only partly about the actual marathon part.  Still, last Sunday was an incredible experience that I feel the need to describe.  I felt so many different emotions leading up to race day.  I felt some nervousness, mainly because I was worried that my foot would be bothering me during the race.  But more than anything else I was just pumped!  Even with my injury, I knew that I would have to be experiencing pain like I had never experienced before to stop me from completing the race.  In the moments before the race, it dawned on me that I simply had never prepared for anything so much in my life.  Aside from all the training runs, leading up to the Marathon I altered my diet, my sleep schedule, etc.  I was ready for the marathon and I knew it.

Just as my sister Sam told me, everything is different on race day.  I felt like I was on top of the world as I crossed the start line, with Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run” blasting in the background.  I usually don’t even like Springsteen, and definitely not that song, but it felt like my favorite song then.  The first few miles of the race are amazing because the course goes down State Street, one of the busiest streets in the heart of Chicago.  Spectators flooded the sidewalk and cheered everyone on.  In retrospect, I did exactly what so many people warned me not to do at this point: I got really excited and ran a lot faster than my training.  I didn’t realize this then, but I definitely did come mile 22.  Anyways, I was lucky to find a guy running around my pace and we wound up sticking together for most of the race.  Unfortunately I forgot his name and I lost his contact info, but if I ever see him again I’ll be sure to thank him because he definitely kept me going during the toughest parts of the race!

The first half of the race sped by.  The course went through some of my favorite parts of the city, including Lincoln Park and Wrigleyville.  Things got a little less fun around mile 17 when it was about 80 degrees and it hit me that maybe I started out too fast.  Come mile 22, I was really struggling.  When I say struggling, I mean I was experiencing a type of exhaustion that I had never come close to feeling before.  I’d be shouting in my head “don’t stop, keep running!” only to look down and see that I was almost at a standstill.  Still, I managed to keep going until the end.  I even got a little kick at the last half mile, thanks to my friends Mike and Adam cheering me on from the sidewalk!

When I crossed the finish line I was just overwhelmed with pride.  I remember seeing my running partner again (he finished a few minutes ahead of me) and we gave each other a huge hug.  Someone handed me a beer, which I immediately chugged and threw-up soon after.  The best moment was when all my friends and family who came to support me showed up at the post-race meet up.  Though I don’t think they saw, I definitely did shed a few tears when I saw them approaching.

Now that a week has gone by since the race, the soreness is almost gone.  But I am still just as proud of what my sisters and I accomplished, and I know that will never go away.  Running the marathon was the most difficult thing I have ever done in my life, but there are no words to describe how rewarding it was too.  I feel so lucky that I was able to share this experience with Sam and Amy.  I feel closer to Chicago now too, the city I have grown to love these past few years.  And, personally, I feel stronger now than I’ve ever felt before.  Once the soreness fully subsides, I can’t wait to start running again!

We Ran a Marathon!, by Amy

Well, that was hard.

After I finished with my medal

Never have I done something so amazing and terrifying at the same time. What an emotionally and physically draining event! Without knowing the other side of this comparison, I want to equate running a marathon with childbirth. It seems like that’s pretty challenging too, yet people (mothers) are amazed and proud of themselves after the fact. What’s more, they talk about the “black out” effect of not remembering how bad the childbirth actually was — same for the marathon (kind of)! The only hole in my theory is that the childbirth “black out” effect clearly serves an evolutionary purpose, and I don’t feel it has the same purpose in marathon running.

I will return to the positive. Seventeen Chicago neighborhoods, 45,000 runners and over a million spectators, including my college friends, who lovingly created posters (including one that said: “Body Says Go” — clearly they’ve been following this blog!), and stood at mile 21 cheering. Sam and I also ran the entire race together, in matching outfits that included our names. Strangers at every mile cheered for us, shouted our names and encouraged us to go on.

Another positive: spectators’ creative posters; highlights include: “Pain is temporary but pride is forever”, “I farted, run faster!” “Worst parade ever.” (we didn’t get that — do you?), “Hurry up! Beer at the end!” (by the way, there was, and my brother threw up right after he drank it).

For much of the race, Sam and I didn’t talk about anything, except for things like “we’re at 16!” “we’re at 17!” “just 5 more!” Actually, that’s a little misleading — as we got towards the end, only Sam was able to talk. Meanwhile, I was having a combined asthma/anxiety attack around miles 22-24 — err, 22-26.2. It’s hard to explain, but the end of the race became really overwhelming. Being so close to this amazing goal while countless strangers tell you that you’re almost there, that you just need to get through 4,3,2 more miles, was simultaneously anxiety/pride/incredulity-provoking, and the only way my body reacted was getting choked up. Well, crying exhausts much needed lung capacity at the end of a marathon, especially in 80 degree weather, hence the asthma in addition to these emotions.

Sam — and Todd, even though you were one hour ahead — I could not have done this without your support. I’m so proud of us and can’t wait for our next family challenge. (Maybe something a little less strenuous would be nice, just saying!) Or, could it be the NYC marathon one day?

Before the marathon; wearing our throwaway warm-up gear

After the marathon; our NU graduation years on the back of our shirts

Body Says Stop, by Amy

Sam’s right – we failed at this blog. Wah wahhhh. But, we promise it’s because we’ve been so busy training, and it has not been easy!

About two months ago, halfway into my training, and for the first time I can remember, my body reached its limit. Likely contributing factors for this: not stretching, not paying attention to several consecutive painful runs, (probably) celebrating my birthday after a 17 mile run and (definitely) trying to run 18 miles with a throat infection. Said throat infection became bronchitis and painful runs became impossible runs.

One orthopedist visit, one MRI (to confirm I didn’t have a stress fracture), multiple doctors visits for throat infection/brochitis, two rounds of antibiotics and twice-weekly physical therapy sessions later, I am finally feeling better, and slightly (very slightly!) more confident about going into the marathon.

My manager at work gave me a book about training that has also helped tremendously. It’s called: Marathon: You Can Do It, and as the title suggests, it presents a pretty realistic version of marathon training that actually makes running 26.2 miles seem attainable. It taught me to train easier and more successfully and even has tips for avoiding the mental ‘wall’ that runners inevitably hit. As the title also suggests, the book has its cheesy moments (repeating ‘Relax, Power, Glide’ over and over is supposed to help push through the mental wall); nevertheless, I have not gone anywhere without this book in the past few weeks. It’s like my security blankie – something I no longer have because my parents cut it up when I was younger, a fact I recently learned.

Moving on, I am including a photo of Cape Cod, where I stayed with my family for a week of vacation at the height of body saying stop. Spending at least one hour a day running slowly and/or walking, stretching and strength training, I was able to complete a 20 mile run at the end of the week. A few weeks ago I completed a 23 mile run, my longest ever, during which I ran from the upper west side to Chelsea Piers along the Hudson River all the way up to the GW bridge…and back the same route.

So, just TWO DAYS from the marathon, I’m running more slowly, but am going into the race with the sole goal of finishing. (Sam, you’re correct – no surprises, sadly this will probably not be your fastest marathon!) And, marathon weekend is also a chance for a long overdue college friend reunion. See you all this weekend!

Ready or Not, by Sam

If we’ve failed at blogging about training (I assume successful blogging rule #1 is be consistent, so we’ve indeed failed), Todd has a boot on his foot when he’s not running, and I have a letter from my condo about leaving my sneakers in the hall (more on that later), to prove we’ve been hitting the pavement.  Here are some photos I took running over the past month.  Please excuse the predictable sunrise-on-water nature of all of them.  I can only be such a creative smart phone photographer at 5:45am.  I’ve also included a photo of shells I found in Siesta Key, a propos of nothing.  Oh, and one more, too.

Northern tip of Siesta Key

Northern tip of Siesta Key, one hour later

10 miles north of my apartment, somewhere in Jupiter (?) on the Intracoastal

Shells from Siesta Key

I couldn’t resist: Rental car that I successfully parallel parked my first week in Florida. Taken for my mom.

I haven’t done enough races that they blur together in my mind, or to pay for a 26.2 sticker to put on my car.  If I got one for free, though, I’d smack it on with pride.  Then, when I move back to NY and give that car back to my grandparents, people will look in awe at that elderly couple, at least one of whom is a marathon runner.  How did they do it?! (Just kidding, Granny and Pop-Pop!)

Every race is different, and this upcoming one, for better or worse, snuck up on me.  And, unless my sister has really been holding out on me, this will be my first race that won’t be my fastest one.  This is my third marathon running alongside someone who’s racing for the first time, and my second marathon where it’s her first, not mine.  Are these totally boring and inconsequential comparisons?  Definitely.  But I bet other runners think about them, until marathons stack up more than birthdays, and they only remember the really great or really awful ones.  I haven’t had an awful one yet, but there must be some stipulation in the laws of probability, of which I remember nothing, that guarantees I will.

Until then, I’ll keep plodding along on my long, boring training runs, even when it starts pouring outside, and I know I can’t get any more wet or more dry so I might as well keep going.  When I get back to my apartment, I’ll leave my soggy sneakers in the hallway, a wistful, fleeting attempt to keep my apartment tidy.  Then, I’ll get a letter from the powers that be in my condo  that not one, but two neighbors (I think I only have two, so 100% of my neighbors) complained about sneakers left in the hallway.  The powers that be will remind me in the most polite of passive-aggressive terms, “being that the hallway is not an extension of your apartment, we would like to ask that all personal belongings be kept inside your apartment.”  Did you know I lived in the Trump Towers?  Me neither.  Would you have imagined the Trump Towers being situated just a stone’s throw from government-funded housing for crazy people who smoke cigarettes outside their apartments wearing puffy down jackets in 90 degree heat all day long?  Ditto.

If I get sick of running, I may take up the worthwhile cause of fighting age discrimination in South Florida condominiums.  For now,  see (a handful of) you at the finish line!

Ice Baths and Plastic Bags, by Amy

Beyond actually agreeing to run the marathon, this experience has made me do things I thought I would never do. For example, commuting home by foot. My apartment in BK is about 8 miles from my office in Manhattan, and last week I actually ran home from work. In some ways, this was more pleasant than my normal 3-subway commute, and only added about 30 minutes.

When I finally got home, I relaxed with a bath. I lied. It was not relaxing because it was an ICE BATH, which is supposed to help alleviate runner pains. As I sat in my small, NYC softscrub-with-bleach-coated-bathtub (the only thing worse than an ice bath is an unclean ice bath), I realized why so many people prefer other, more enjoyable post-work activities to running home and then bathing in ice. I will be sure to fit in more happy hours after the marathon!

Training for the marathon has also brought out my survival skills, and I’ve become very resourceful. For example, I’ve learned to elevate and ice my knee at work. I have a drawer full of plastic bags at work (As my work friends know, I’m a plastic bag hoarder; this issue will have to be explored at another time, perhaps on another blog. However, if you do have any suggestions for environmentally-friendly ways to dispose of plastic bags after you use them, please let me know.). I fill up said plastic bags with ice cubes and tie it to my leg (with another plastic bag). I then rest my leg on an upside down recycle bin under my desk.

On a lighter note, I did want to share 2 videos I took on my iPod from a scenic 11-mile run I did one recent evening. These videos were taken on the Brooklyn Heights Promenade, around sunset and once it got dark, when the Brooklyn Bridge is lit up. The quality is pretty bad but hopefully you can see the cool Manhattan views  (read: I wanted my post to be cooler than Sam’s and Todd’s).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L2Gxfd5rDX4

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eXDkpPCsQfM

Also, I’m proud to say I completed my pre-bday 17 mile run last weekend! This week’s runs have been painful (I may have shed a few tears during an 8-mile run this week), but hopefully I’ll be up for my 18 mile run with Sam on Sunday. No one enjoys the art of eating post-run like my sister, so we’ll be sure to consume our body weights in food during her NYC visit this weekend.

PS – Todd’s and Sam’s recent posts actually are cool – scroll down.

-Amy (now 24), Brooklyn, NY

“NERD!” by Todd

Week: 11

Distance: 18 miles

At 6:00 PM last Sunday, I was ready to go for my long run.  My timing was very purposeful: it was late enough that the effects of my hangover from the night before were minimal, but early enough that I would be home in time for Curb Your Enthusiasm at 9:00 P.M (after the Palestinian chicken episode the week before, I knew I couldn’t settle for watching a later re-run).  At 18 miles, this was my longest run yet.  I was really counting on seeing my “friends” out on the road for encouragement.  By “friends”, I’m referring to the other regular runners who I often pass during my workouts, and with whom I have formed tacit relationships.  Just as I expected, they did not let me down.

Three miles in, I passed one of my closest friends, “the-old-guy-who-I-mutter-obscenities-with.”  Our relationship began during the heat wave that struck Chicago in early July (for New York readers, this was the same heat wave that hit you guys a week later, when the forecast read “Feels Like: 104 degrees”).  As I passed him during that blistering hot afternoon, feeling like I was literally about to pass out, I couldn’t help but exclaim, “Holy sh*t, it’s f***ing hot!”  The guy managed to display a hint of a smile and respond between gasps, “It’s f***ing brutal man!”  We’ve been friends ever since.  As we passed each other during the run currently being described though, it was relatively cool out and I was still feeling fresh.  We gave each other thumbs up and went our separate ways.

Around 5 miles later, I passed the man who I consider to be my best friend out on the road, “the-bald-dude-with-the-tan-line.”  I consider this guy my best friend not so much because he encourages me, but rather because I can’t help but laugh when I look at him.  This makes me forget that I’m running for a few moments.  Though I don’t see “the-bald-dude-with-the-tan-line” every day, I always know I will see him during my long runs on Sundays.  When I saw him for the first time a few weeks ago, I didn’t take much note of him.  He just looked like a really sunburned bald guy wearing a hat.  The next time I saw him though, his hat was off and I nearly stopped dead in my tracks.  The best way I can describe him is as a ‘reversed pig in a blanket’ (i.e. hot dog around the bread– the bread is his scalp, the hot dog is every other part of his body).  I had never seen anything like it!  I never saw him again with the hat on.  Each time I pass him now, I wonder if he’s not wearing his hat because he’s trying to get rid of the tan line.  I just wish I could say to him, “Give up man, you’re never gonna rid of that thing!”  As I passed him nearing the halfway point of this 18-mile run, my best friend unknowingly provided me with much-needed comedic relief.

However, I will most identify this run with a random confrontation when I look back on it.  With only 4 miles left, I was beginning to pick up my pace for a strong finish.  I was feeling surprisingly confident as I lengthened my strides.  My Morning Jacket’s “First Light” was blasting in my head for motivation.  Suddenly, a black SUV drove by.  A teenaged kid stuck his head out the window.  He wore dark sunglasses (though the sun had set by this point), and no shirt at all.  For a moment, we made eye contact.  Then, he shouted out, “NERD!” and sped away.  I was shocked.  Why did this high school kid feel the need to put me down?  Was it my ankle socks?  The short shorts?  The fanny pack for running I bring on my long runs?  Shattered, I screamed out, “Why!?” hoping to find some explanation for the insult.  But he was gone.

I suppose one thing this story shows is the many different hardships runners face.  It’s more than just the physical stuff: strained muscles, shin-splints, chafing, etc.  Running involves many emotional hardships as well, something I learned first hand from my teenaged tormentor.  If I ever see him again (believe me, I’d recognize him if I saw him), I’ll be sure to get my revenge.

Excuses, Excuses, by Sam

 I must admit: I’ve been the most delinquent marathon trainee of the three of us.  Fortunately for you and me, I have excuses aplenty: my broken Garmin GPS watch (my boyfriend says it probably just needs a new battery, but until I actually drive somewhere and deal with it, that theory remains unsubstantiated),  the heat, the fact that I have to start my run in the wee dark hours to even attempt to beat the heat, and the frightening and little known fact that South Florida has befallen a never-before-seen reemergence (unless this happens every summer…?) of the 8th plague: locusts.  This time around, it’s dragonflies: swirling, silent swarms of them.  Pro: the “dragonfly swarm” is the new “afternoon chance of thunderstorms” of uncontroversial, mind-numbing conversation topics to broach with fellow South Floridians.  Con:  Who wants to run in this?

My final excuse is CrossFit.  Never heard of it?  CrossFit is bootcamp invented for those of us with a tenuous attention span, streak of masochism, and total lack of shame.  Click here to see the workout of the day, or simply WOD, in CF lingo.  I may have already done it this morning.  If you get there at just the right time, or spend more than 10 seconds on the page, you’ll see a photo of a woman with a sandbag hoisted on her shoulders, cut-out abdominal muscles and a perfect tan.  That is not me.  I am, however, the pasty blob in the background with my mouth slightly ajar like I’m a little surprised or about to vomit. 

SPOILER ALERT: I’m about to subject you to some fitness minutia.  Competitor Magazine recently ran a feature on CrossFit and its celebrated founder, Brian Mackenzie. The article described Mr. Mackenzie’s revelation that runners run too much, running is boring, and runners can not only successfully complete running races, they can earn PRs (personal records) while barely running in the critical months before said race.  Finally! The physiological breakthrough all runners have been waiting for: we can stop the toiling, hit the snooze button, and show up on race day and STILL kick butt.  All a runner needs to do is “run smarter, not longer:” slash mileage, swap the weekend 17-mile run for a nine mile, lung-bursting interval run, and the weekday 10-milers for a couple of three or four mile sprints…and tack on four CrossFit workouts.  First of all, which part of this regimen is easier? 

Much more importantly, though, this article made me mad.  Almost enough for me to march over to my computer and whip out a scathing letter to the editor in defense of runners who actually LIKE to run…until I forgot about it…but still; since when are runners–real runners, most of whom are runners for life, who, like me, struggle to suppress the nagging sensation that something is missing when we miss a run–looking for ways to cut it out?  This perplexes me.   But, I must have bought it–literally, I paid for three months of CrossFit membership, and I’m probably going to get another three when the first three ends.  And, unlike my brother and sister, I haven’t run more than 12 miles since…the last time I ran a half-marathon.   Indeed, CrossFit makes me feel like I’m cheating on running.

This weekend, though, I’m heading back to NY.  On Sunday, Amy and I are running 18 miles.  So, stay tuned.  Will I finish with fuel to burn because of the gazillion weighted lunges my CrossFit instructor has subjected me to?  Or, will I hit the dreaded wall at mile 14?  You–all three of you readers, all of whom are related to me–will have to just wait and see.

Sam, 25, West Palm Beach, FL

I’m Sam, the oldest of the Levines.  I was born in Madison, WI, which
explains my natural affinity for the midwest; I went to a Cubs game at
Wrigley Field before I was even born. I spent the last three years
after graduating running around New York City (literally: I’m always
late and always training for something) and dining beyond my means. In
May, I decided to quit my job and follow my boyfriend to South
Florida.  I resigned myself to a life of dog-walking, after-school
tutoring and food service, until I only made it to the second of a
rigorous three-round interview process to hostess at BB King’s Blues
Club, and more importantly, got a job at a lovely museum in Delray
Beach.  I find that South Florida living suits my proclivity towards
senior citizen stand-bys, some of which include book clubs, public
radio, knitting, painstaking grocery lists, and going to bed early.
I knew I could call myself a year-rounder when I recently described
someone as a “snowbird” in complete seriousness.

About running: I’d say it all began when a chubbier, freshman me
heaved through a two-and-a-half mile run by the lake one brisk Chicago
evening.  On the phone with my mom later that night, I told her I
planned to run a marathon.  I don’t blame her if she thought this
dream would go the way (nowhere) of many of my lofty, if not deluded,
ambitions–become an Olympic figure skater, go to Columbia, own a
summer home in Paris, and host a talk-show.  In fact, I only learned I
even dreamt of the Paris summer home and talk-show nonsense in the
“About the Author” section of a heretofore unpublished illustrated
short story I wrote in second grade.  It was called “A Passover
Seder,” and was, obviously, my musings on identity, tradition, and
family in contemporary Jewish-American society.

Anyway, I told my mom I planned to run a marathon.  And really, the
rest is history: I ran my first marathon on an unseasonably steamy
October day in Minneapolis, my second in Barcelona, and my third and
most-loved last year in New York.  I’m doing that one again this year,
just a month after Chicago.  I am positively giddy about crossing the
finish line with my sister, as Todd better have finished long before. See you there!

Amy, 23, Brooklyn, NY

I’m Amy, the middle child. This means I am the most likely/entitled to be heard whining about the marathon training. Fortunately, in training for my first marathon, I’ve found certain perks. I get to eat things like lobster rolls and truffled macaroni and cheese (see only food images on this blog; also note these both were consumed on the same day).

To be fair,  training has also been a wonderful way to explore NYC, and particularly Brooklyn, where I live. So far, my training has taken me over the Brooklyn and Williamsburg Bridges, in Park Slope and Prospect Park, into Red Hook (home of BK’s Ikea, and apparently some good lobster rolls), along the Brooklyn Heights Promenade and into Dumbo. I’ve also enjoyed running on the boardwalk in Long Beach (home of Mindy and the aforementioned Shadow Levine). I’ve run in the middle of the day, in the dead heat of summer, or before 6 a.m. when the city is still quiet. Eight weeks in, I’ve dealt with most of the typical, and perhaps less typical, runner injuries and issues. I won’t get into all of these, but I will definitely say that training for the 2011 Chicago marathon has been an adventure and perhaps the biggest challenge I’ve undertaken in my 23 (almost 24!) years.

Speaking of my age, I turn 24 on August 14, and I will be ringing in the next year of my life with a 17 mile run. I hope to live to celebrate appropriately after!

Sam and Todd, I am looking forward to our highly anticipated sibling reunion in the city of our alma mater. In all honesty, thinking about my post race meal will probably get me through those 26.2 miles – any recommendations Chicago people? – and running with you guys of course!

Todd, 21, Evanston, IL

I’m Todd, the youngest Levine (not counting Shadow in people years.  In dog years she’s going on 78 years old, give or take a few years…probably give.).  I’ve been running for years now, and was a proud member of the POB cross country team back in high school.  But, like Amy, this will be my first marathon, and I couldn’t be more excited!  Speaking of Amy, I know she says she is the child most likely to be heard whining.  However, I think I would have a shot at out-whining her if it wasn’t for the fact that my mom is so constantly worried about me hurting myself during training that she doesn’t even give me a chance to whine.  This comes along with being the youngest I have learned.

But back to the marathon.  Ever since I began to run, doing the marathon has been a goal tucked away on my ‘life to-do list’.  When Sam got in touch with me earlier this year and suggested that we all do it together, I couldn’t say no.

I am so excited that I will be doing my first marathon here in Chicago too. I have come to love Chicago more and more with each passing year as I continue to immerse myself into the city: working at a nursery school in Rogers Park, finding new places to hang out, and finally seeing some sunshine this summer.  But more than any other reason, I am so pumped for October 9th because I will be sharing this experience with my 2 older sisters!