13.1 Miles in 113 Days...GULP!

Truth talk: I haven't run in SO LONG! Months...I'm so ashamed. Don't look at me - just turn away.

I have excuses...sort of. I've been in shows pretty much constantly since last July, and, while any show takes up a good amount of the free time I have outside of work, some of these shows were also rather physically demanding. So, I didn't run.

(Maybe if I'd been running all along, those shows wouldn't have been quite so physically demanding...)

And I was working and taking college classes and working on a few design projects and I had to walk my dog and occasionally clean my house and blah blah blah...and I didn't run.

*Sigh*

But, months ago I did myself the kindest favor of registering for a half marathon on Labor Day weekend. So, about 4 months from now, I have to run 13.1 miles...and, presumably, be alive at the end of it. And, I'm thinking, ya know, it's probably about time I start getting ready.

Also, I announced this endeavor to all of Facebook, which probably no one remembers, but I remember. So, if I don't get on track now, I will be too late to do so at all, and I will have thoroughly shamed myself via social media...and in real life, too.

This week, then, I have found myself having a bit of a oh-crap realization that I need to get off my butt and start running. So, I really got in gear: I read some articles on the Runner's World website; I perused the women's athletic clothing at Target; I laid out an entire training schedule; I considered a pair of Merrill shoes at Scheels...I went to a couple auditions; I painted my fingernails; and I became the master of Pinterest...and of the world. No, not really. But, I could...if I really wanted to.

And I logged zero miles.

It's always the first run after a long break that hurts the worst. It's the most humiliating and eye-opening. I'm so out of shape. And everyone knows it. But, it has it's good points as well. I like running, which I become keenly aware of when I'm doing it. ...throat clearing...right, obviously. I don't know what it is in me that tells me that I don't want to run when, really, I do. I DO want to run. There are so many good reasons to run, and I like that those reasons exist. But, when it comes right down to it, I just like it.

So, I'm going for a run tomorrow morning. It won't be pretty, and it won't be fast - but who cares about that anyway? : )

I've Got the Pink Blues

I'm always so sad after a show ends. It just seems so bizarre - we spend hours, weeks, and even months preparing for a performance. We often put other parts of our lives on hold and sink our sweat, blood, and tears into the role that we're creating. (No kidding - that often happens.) We work closely with people who we've possibly never met before and build some pretty great friendships as a result. And then the show opens, and it's wonderful and exciting. People come to see it; hopefully, they love it.


And then it's over.


The set disappears within a couple hours. The costumes are disassembled. The cast and crew goes on with their lives, doing other shows with new people and new characters. And that thing that we worked so hard for...it becomes only a memory. So, it just makes me sad. I know theatre is transient; it never stays the same, it never lasts forever. And that is an integral quality of theatre that makes it what it is. And it's a quality that I love...but also hate.


I miss my characters. They are fictional, of course, but they become very real to me as I attempt to give them a voice and a body. I miss my cast mates, who I've spent so much time with during the course of rehearsal and performances. I miss the security and guidance of the director. I miss the excitement and nervous energy that comes with each performance.


Of course, I get over the sadness soon enough. I will move on to another show. (I'll remember that I haven't really cleaned my house since rehearsals started.) The memories will remain, but they'll fade just enough to be no longer tangible and quietly slide away from the forefront of my mind.


I'm writing all this at 6:30am on the morning after strike for Pinkalicous the Musical, and at the moment, I'm right in the midst of my Show's Over Blues. (Which means I'm being maybe a little over dramatic, but what the hey.)


Some shows are just special for one reason or another, and this was a special show for me for a few reasons. I love doing children's theatre. It's just a blast. And I remember going to my first play when I was a kid and how much I loved it, so I hope I helped to give that same experience to the children that came to see this show. I got to have pink hair, which might seem silly, but I absolutely LOVED it.  : ) I got to perform with some extremely talented and wonderful people who I will most certainly miss.


...and I sang in public...something I never thought I'd do. That was a huge hurdle for me. I wasn't always perfect, but I did it.


It was all wonderful, and now it's over.  And I just needed to pout about it a little bit.
But, I'm a big girl, and as Fergie says, "Big girls don't cry."  : )