I’ve decided to run in 2008.
No, not for political office. (That’s not such a stretch, since one member of my family has already run for office in the past year.) But the running I’m talking about is in the literal sense.
Running a marathon.
It’s a big deal – for me, at least. I know that people run marathons every day, and I once met a lady that ran a 50-miler. Even though she seemed nice and normal, I secretly wondered if she needed psychiatric attention for willingly putting herself through such physical torture. She said her motivation was for a cheeseburger. Now that must be the most amazing cheeseburger on the planet to inspire that kind of workout.
I digress. Back to the marathon. There are a million reasons why it’s crazy for me to run a marathon, but here are the top few:
1) I hate running. I’ve complained to everyone I know (and even people I don’t know) at some point about how I just hate to run. Some people mention a “runner’s high.” I think those people either must be lying or on drugs when they run. Though I have run at various points in my life, I’ve certainly never ran for more than 4 miles at one time, not even close to 26.2.
2) I’m not athletic. I’ve always considered myself more brains (read: geek) than brawn.
3) Most of my embarrassing moments involve some sort of running blunder. I once lost my balance once on a treadmill after closing my eyes for a brief moment (don’t ever do that, and please don’t ask me why I did), creating a commotion loud enough to command the attention of every person in the gym who stared in disbelief of my klutziness. Another running classic involved me actually vomiting after a run for a required fitness test in college, horrifying and grossing out a track full of people that I had just met. But the vomiting occurrences became a frequent part of running of these tests, so much so that my family would ask me: “Did you throw up after that one??” And then they would congratulate me if I hadn’t.
But for whatever reason, in the past couple months I’ve thought about running a marathon, and it somehow has become a goal that I can’t shake.
I thought about it a lot during our move throughout the many days of driving. At the precise moment I was wondering if I should run one, I saw a billboard advertising a local marathon. It was, quite literally, a sign. I took that to be my nudge to make it a real goal. (And thank goodness the sign wasn’t advertising a “gentleman’s club,” or my goal for 2008 might have turned out altogether different…)
So a marathon it is. I don’t plan to run it until next fall, giving myself plenty of time to train. Perhaps by the next presidential election I’ll have completed my goal!
[By the way, I’m Tootie, and I approve this message.]