After weeks and weeks of seeing Cristina crush stairs, toss out hugs, and burp(ee) like it’s no ones business, I found out at one of our Wednesday workouts that Cristina was running the Rock and Roll Marathon the next weekend. Her first question to me was, “if I run to Lobsterman Memorial, is that considered tapering?” That relentless ATTITUDE, goal crushing mentality is what Cristina does day in day out and we’re happy to have her on our team. Cristina breaks down training with steps, training with new friends, training with smiles, and turboing through PRs, not just on PR Week. The VIBE is strong with @Cristina Lopez (G), she’s the shit. Boom. LOVE: Always.
A few months ago, my excuse for rejecting any invitation that came my way -from going out to working out- would have been “between school and training for my second marathon, I’m just too busy”. When my crazy friend Keith invited me for a workout and hugs at 6:30 am in the Lincoln Memorial, I tried to use my excuse. Except there isn’t school at 6:30am and an argument could be made that hugging is actually good for marathon training.
I decided to give it a shot and run to the Lincoln Memorial, cursing Keith under my steamy breath and ready to hate this crazy cult he wouldn’t shut up about- “November Project?,” I thought while struggling to run over the ice layer that covered the sidewalks, “Do they even realize it’s January, goddammit!” – Part of my crankiness was due to the fact that it was a dark 8F morning with a wind chill of -13F and my people are simply not built for this (I should probably provide some context- I was born and raised in El Salvador, a country that only knows of two seasons: warm and scorching)
Turns out, Keith was lying about the whole hug thing: those were not hugs, they were the friendliest, hips-in violations to personal space I had ever experienced from strangers and I was instantly equal parts dumbfounded and intrigued. Workout wise my first day at November Project was pathetic: snot kept dripping down my face courtesy of my tropical DNA and despite all my pushing, there was no “up” in my push-ups. Burpees were a form of torture I wasn’t familiar with. I painfully realized I was probably the marathon runner in the worst shape ever. However, all those strangers cheering and Danny, that tireless high-fiving machine of a cofounder, made the pain and suffering bearable. I had reluctantly come for the workout, but the unexpected camaraderie had thawed my skepticism.
Sore from the first workout, the second time around was even worse. Thanks to the polar vortex, the contents of my water bottle had frozen. But those total strangers from two days ago were now friends and I could not wait for next Wednesday.
Fast forward to two-months later, and here I am, talking about November Project to anyone who’ll bear with me, not unlike the way a born-again Christian or a Herbalife sales person talk about their inclinations. Push-ups are becoming second nature now. Wednesdays and Fridays can never come fast enough and I dread being out of town with the same intensity I used to dread waking up before sunrise.
After running like a maniac up and down the 145 steps that lead to Abe’s marble chair for two months straight, I’d stopped thinking about the marathon and had started enjoying the workouts per se- I no longer saw them as means towards a greater end but as ends in and of themselves, a challenge on their own.
Just before running my second marathon, I read an article about how stair climbing is good for runners (http://www.runnersworld.com/running-tips/why-stair-climbing-is-good-for-runners). Turns out it’s totally true: the day of the marathon I crushed my PR by 27 minutes and crossed the finish line in a sprint. I was proudly sporting my #grassrootsgear tagged shirt and other runners would ask me what team I was running for. I’ve never invited more people to “the Lincoln Memorial at 6:30am next Wednesday” than I did during the 26.2 mile course.
(Aren’t we luckily to have @Matt_Anzur do our #FREE #Fitness #Fotos)
What made the marathon all the better was seeing my November Project family a little before mile 5, volunteering at a water station. As I was mentally preparing for the worst hill in the course, I heard it: Can of Spaghetti’s unmistakable voice cheering runners, Matt Anzur and Lauren really busy putting out cups of water, while Sam Billotta gave out more smiles per minute than I was giving minutes per mile. The thought that I had joined the tribe to prepare for this day and that they were a part of it helped me beat the hill with the ease I hadn’t found in my training. #tribeisstrong
The marathon might be, but my days with the NP tribe are far from over: there are burpees to crush, hoisties to hoisty, people to hug, and members to recruit. After all, those sunrises are not gonna watch themselves. With views like this, it’s no wonder why Abe never gets up from his marble throne!
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