I Just Play One On TV: Confessions of A Runner
My legs are shaking. I feel the pulsing vibrations of sneakers hitting the pavement and hear the cheers of fans on the sidelines. The beauty of Central Park is all around me as I breath in and…
Along with a handful of actors and several dozen extras, I’ve been cast as a runner in the official ING NYC Marathon commercial. The director orders the two other principal actors and myself to keep running in between takes. Spray her down some more, this is supposed to be mile 23, she doesn’t look tired enough! he barks to the make-up artist.
Ah, yes, the glamorous side of acting.
Still, I presume this is much easier than actually running in a marathon. I’ve run a few half-marathons starting in Bangkok last year, but they were mostly happy accidents; I was in the right place at the right time. I couldn’t imagine running the same distance back to back for a full 26.2 miles. Ridic!
But there was something about being in Central Park, near the future actual marathon finish line, with the fake water station and the fake crowds with their fake signs cheering, that opened a door of possibility in my imagination. What if this could be a reality? If there was ever a marathon to run, the ING NYC Marathon on November 3rd would be the mecca of them all.
I (oh so casually) mention my goal to an official looking person on the shoot.
Official Looking Person: Are you a runner? I mean, in real life?
I don’t think of myself as a runner. A runner is someone who has a regular running routine, and eats gross gooey things, and wears a belt with fluids, and reads running magazines. I, on the other hand, run because I can’t afford a gym membership and running is free.
Me: Uh, I’ve run a few half-marathons, does that count?
Official Looking Person: Five weeks is not much time to train, but we’ll see what we can do. After all, you’re a face of the campaign.
Fast forward a week later, the day after I complete the Maui Half-Marathon, and there’s an email with my Bib number.
This pipe dream is now very, alarmingly real. I know how difficult it was to get a spot in this iconic race. I want to kiss the Official Looking Person from across the computer screen but I also start to panic. I’m not a runner! I’m a fake!
Now, it’s the week before the race. There’s a growing pain in my ankle that’s spreading up my calf and foot, most likely due to the compacted training schedule. I’m seriously doubting myself. Why did I think I could do this? Just because I was cast as a runner doesn’t mean I am a runner!
Without realizing it, I sabotage myself. I up the coffee intake. I eat a diet of chocolate chip cookies and Jarlsberg cheese. I don’t stretch or ice my ankle. I drink too much without eating dinner on Halloween, just three nights before the big day, and spend much of the night in the bathroom feeling like I’d been poisoned. The day before the race I’m nearly inconsolable as I admit to my friend that I’m don’t think I’ll finish the marathon.
I was given this incredible opportunity to be part of something and I squandered it.
As I lay in bed the night before the race, a lightbulb goes off in my mind: I’ve been sabotaging my odds of finishing the race because I don’t feel I deserve to be starting it.
Adding an -er or -or to the end of something makes it so official! (Runner, Painter, Writer, Actor, Director, Illustrator.) There are instant expectations. For example, whenever I say I’m an actor after someone asks what I do, the other person ALWAYS responds first with Oh really? What have I seen you in? and I immediately feel defensive because I feel judged.
But what makes a person an -er/-or of something?
1. It’s certainly not money. History is fraught with poets and artists and such who were paupers in their time, but are now revered among the greats.
2. As much as it pains me to say, our titles aren’t always determined by skill level. There are plenty of bad actors. I was certainly a bad bartender back in the day.
3. And like a tree falling in the woods, you could also be a -er even if no one else besides your mom knows it.
It isn’t money, or skill, or prestige that makes you what you are.
It’s what you do that defines who you are.
We are what we repeatedly do.
Excellence, then is not an act but a habit.
~Aristotle
You can’t be a writer unless you write.
You are not an actor just because you majored in Theater ten years ago.
Daydreaming about being a Riverdancer doesn’t make it so (says to self).
This may sound harsh, but it is actually incredibly inspiring if you consider the only thing you have to do to change “has been” or “never was” to “I am” is to do it!)
With the sound of the starting cannon comes the decision: I’m going to finish this marathon.
Every step of the 26.2 miles is painful. My ankle screams at me to stop. But I know that as long as I keep moving, keep running, I belong here amongst the 45,000+ others.
Crossing the finish line in Central Park with the real crowds and the real cheers and the real vibration of running shoes hitting the pavement, I shed a tear of gratitude.
Pretending to run a marathon in the commercial was fun. But this, this! was so much better.
Immediately after the race my best friend and her husband take me out to eat. While waiting for my veggie burger and Guinness I realize I’ve never actually seen the commercial that got me here. A quick Google search on the iPhone later, and there it was.
This is not at all unusual in film and television, and I wasn’t the only actor cast whose face never appears on the screen in the ad. It isn’t personal.
And I had to laugh at the Universe’s sense of humor.
I couldn’t see myself on the screen but I could feel the weight of my finisher medal around my neck.
In that moment I realized we don’t have to pretend to be what we want to become.
P.S. Huge thank you to the NYRR for welcoming me into the family, and to all the amazing volunteers and supporters!
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