Sunday, March 20, 2011

I’m watching the LA Marathon from a comfortable chair in my living room. It’s pouring rain outside. Some of the runners are cloaked in see-through plastic sheets. The rest are just getting wet. I am in pajamas. I have socks on. My feet are up and I am under a blanket. I am intermittently sipping from a warm cup of coffee.

I feel guilty somehow.

The two dudes leading the race are running like 4 minute something miles.

I run twelve minute miles.

I am like a grandma runner.

Yesterday I ran my strongest five miles thus far in my ongoing training for the San Francisco Bay to Breakers that I’ll run in May. I felt like an awesome.

It blows my mind that these runners are running 26 miles and crap.

It blows my mind that I’m thinking of doing the same thing come December.

Some of the runners are wearing garbage bags like shirts.

I just saw a little kid run by.

And a grandpa.

And a grandma

And a chunky person.

Now I feel super guilty.

That’s why I want to run a marathon. Because little kids can run marathons. And old people. And overweight people.

So why can’t I?

I would like to go into 2012, and the rest of my life, with the ability to say, “I ran a marathon.” That would be something I will be able to whip out for the rest of my life that basically says, “I’m better than you.” and I need all of those that I can get cuz I really don't have any so far.

1 comment:

  1. Marathons are bad for your health. They are deadly.