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Ali & Emily Sweat All Over The Nation’s Capital

Posted Aug 14 2011 6:36pm

Um, you people really like T-shirts, huh? I am currently swimming in emails, Tweets, Facebook messages and comments from people demanding “I Heart Sweat” shirts .

Why yes, yes you SHOULD join Team Ali.

So here’s the deal with the shirts: I was informed over the weekend that the shirts left at JackRabbit are already sold out.

That’s good news for me, because it means lots of money is on its way to the Crohn’s & Colitis Foundation !

But of course it’s bad news for those of you who are craving a shirt that proudly displays your sweat affection.

You like sweat? OMG so do I. It's so nice.

I’m planning to order more shirts this week. They will take a few weeks (2–3) to arrive in stores, but I’m looking into an online ordering system so those of you not in NYC can get your hands on these lovely little shirts.

Go “Like” my Ali Run For The Rabbit Facebook page for T-shirt updates.

And again, thank you all so much for your continued support. Marathon training is fun. Marathon training when you get to raise money and bring people together is even better.

Now let’s talk about the weekend, because it was divine.

I spent it in Washington, D.C. I was joined by my handsome friend.

We went to visit Emily and a handsome man of her own.

I don’t remember when I first decided a trip to D.C. to visit my favorite sweat monster was in order.

Probably back in June, after a very magical weekend .

So on Friday around 2:30 pm — peak traffic time, just so you know — Handsome Friend and I boarded a BoltBus bound for Union Station in D.C.

The bus ride took for-freaking-ever. Is it necessary for the bus to make a 15 minute rest stop when we’re already 2 hours behind schedule?

No. No, it’s not.

But we eventually made it to Emily and her Rocketship ‘s apartment. People in D.C. have bigger apartments than people in NYC. They also have a washer/dryer. I was sad I wasn’t told to bring my dirty laundry. Oh well.

We were immediately greeted with wine and carbohydrates.

We didn't even sit down before we started chowing down. Disgusting? Nope. Normal.

Do they know me or what?

We stuffed our faces and were in bed somewhere in the 11 o’clock hour.

Lately I’ve been waking up at 5 am during the week and on Saturdays to run. It was amazing to sleep until 6:30 yesterday morning! The weather in D.C. was perfect for my long run. Sure it was humid and I produced enough sweat to fill several Olympic-sized pools, but it was overcast and not too hot. So I win.

Coach Cane’s big plan for me yesterday: Run 20 miles.

No. Big. Deal.

I couldn’t have asked for a better way to cover a giant distance than in a new city with an Ironman friend.

Oh that’s right. Emily just completed an Ironman. But when I told her I had 20 miles on my schedule, she jumped right in.

Here we come!

RUNNING! IT'S SO FUN! WOO!

There we go. Rapid speed.

Emily took me around all of D.C.’s historic monuments, including the Jefferson Memorial, the Washington Monument and, of course, right up to my beloved Abe Lincoln.

LINCOLN ARE YOU READY FOR ME?!

We stopped to refuel with Lincoln and seized the opportunity to take a few sweat shots.

I choke down Gu Chomps. Abe smiles on.

Lincoln would have wanted me to sweat in his presence. Obviously.

We covered about 11.5 miles together before Emily passed the imaginary baton to my handsome friend, who joined me for the final miles.

If you squint you can see me and my friend behind that sign. Off we go.

The second half of the run was basically the same loop, including a jaunt toward the Capitol Building, which I think is stunning and sexy and quite desirable.

Here I am in front of the Capitol Building. Clearly not running... Oops.

It was at this point — roughly 16 miles in — that I started to feel more dead than alive.

I look decapitated, but I'm not. Just exhausted.

But I forced a smile, choked down the last of my Chomps…

Back with Lincoln. Doing some eating. He wanted me to stay strong. Thanks, Abes.

…and powered through.

Washington Monument, you're nice.

I was so happy when my trusty watch beeped signaling the completion of 20 freakin’ miles.

20 miles. 6 Gu Chomps. (Probably not enough.) 2 laps past Honest Abe. 3 hours on my feet.

One very happy, tired and sweaty girl.

ALL DONE! 20 miles for breakfast!

The first half was speedier than the second half. Note to self: swap that on marathon day. Negative splitting is cool.

These are my splits. Numbers are cool.

What does one do after running 20 miles?

Eat and drink and play games.

So that’s what we all did for the rest of the day.

Showered (yes, Emily actually showered for me) and happy to be drinking

We ate apples, chips and salsa, pita chips and hummus, pad thai, Brussels sprouts and basically anything else anyone put in front of us.

We played Apples to Apples and drank roughly 36 mimosas…each.

And then we drank some other things, like wine.

Two glasses? Sure. Why not? I ran 20 miles.

The boys went late-night swimming. Emily and I did not.

Emily and I got up to run this morning.

What? We're going to run in the morning. Seriously.

The boys did not.

Somehow I managed to wake up this morning feeling surprisingly OK. My legs were tired, but not too sore, and my stomach was rumbling but not terribly hungover feeling.

Coach Cane requested a 4-mile recovery run. In fact, he described it as “the easiest 4 mile recovery run you ever did.”

Was it easy? Not so much.

Was it super slow? You bet it was.

Naturally we went to visit Sir Abe again. We performed dances in his honor. Celine Dion was playing in my head, of course.

Then I got sad, because finishing the run meant it was time to shower, go to brunch and leave D.C.

Yes please.

Now I’m on the BoltBus, with its sad little Internet connection (I gave up on it and am being powered by Handsome Friend’s trusty little iPhone), and I’m not too thrilled about returning to real life tomorrow.

The weekend was fabulous.

Also, I ran 20 miles.

Hamptons Marathon, I will kick your ass. And then I will kick Crohn’s Disease right in the face.

Good things are happening.


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