Marathon Man

Yes, ladies and gentlemen. The New York City Marathon was yesterday. And I, your humble host, watched it. No, no. No congratulations are necessary. I didn't do it for the praise or recognition.

I would love to run a marathon. And by that, let me just say that no, no, in fact I would not at all love that. I would hate it like I hate getting fire pushed into my underpants by angry toddlers. It happens, people.) What I WOULD like would be for people to cheer for me and shout my name and say, "Good job!" like they do at the marathon, while I was doing something easier than that.

I think I could do a marathon if I didn't have to do it all at once. And I didn't have to run it. And I could just do it in little pieces, like between my bed and my bathroom. At work, between the desk and the bathroom. Basically if I could count my trips to the bathroom towards a marathon, and I get there when I get there, I'm totally in. In fact, I feel very confident that I could start the race tomorrow, and I would never get tired of it. Actually, I know myself a little better than that. How long would it be before I had talked myself into peeing my pants at the desk to avoid training?

The point is this: our bodies were not meant to run that far, and by that I mean that MY body is not INTERESTED in doing so. My brain is. I want to be a badass. Who doesn't? We all want to be a fucking warrior who just motors through this thing. But most people don't get there. Why is that? Because, and I want to be clear about this, it's hard. Like, physically. I've tried to train for a marathon twice. First I hurt my knee, then I pooped myself a little. (I'd recommend the first, if you have the opportunity to make that choice. Word to the wise: choose your sports drink carefully.)

If I was going to run a marathon, I'd want it to be highly publicized. And since I'm not very fast or old or infirm or anything newsworthy like that, I'd probably have to spontaneously combust during the race. And I'm willing to do it. In fact, if I knew I was going to die, and I could pick, "Bursting into flames as I cross the finish line at the NYC marathon" you know I would do it. I'd do it for you, people. Actually, I DO know I'm going to die. Someday, I'm sure of it. I'm almost positive that I read that somewhere. Hm. Well, I guess I'll have to wait until next year, but it sounds like FUN, doesn't it? Sure it does!

Kaboom!