First long race of the season this morning as I pushed my fat thighs, big gut and bobble-head to the 13.1 mile distance and I finally remember why I love to run competitively. You obviously don't do it for the crowds, prize-money or women but I love the feeling when I'm done of my entire body aches what I don't like is the fact that my ankles feel all wobbly, my nipples are totally chafed again and my fat thighs spent 13 miles rubbing against each other so they are ripped bare.
the funny thing about any race that you run today is not so much the distance or the accolades as you don't get a medal for finishing but you get a walking advertisement for yourself with these cheap TShirts you get. It's part of the shtick where you run a race and then brag without trying to be too obvious by wearing the shirt from the race to the bar that night.
My buddies tell me (and I admit) that I'm a total hypocrite because i criticize things like the Metropolitan Diary for the not-so-subtle contortionism the authors often do as they try to pat themselves on the back by adding some self serving fact like “I was on my way to play by violin at a shelter for the poor” to an otherwise mundane story.
Well they are right that this is just a way for a guy who just ran a race to take a couple of bows and the only reason I justify it is that a runner has to put up with idiots who will say stuff like
“Oh you are running that race this weekend, I ran a marathon once for charity’ when you know they did a 5k walk.
This is not the same as a marathon you idiot, a marathon is 26 grueling miles of brutal pain, not a stroll in some park with your ‘Save the Dogs’ charity.
So until people stop being idiots about stuff like this, I’ll wear my race paraphernalia. .
If you are looking for me today, I’ll be the hypocrite rocking his Brooklyn Half Marathon shirt.
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