According to The New York Times, there were 47,438 runners participating in Sunday’s New York City marathon. Not one dropped dead because I chose to sleep this 26.2 mile race out. I am certain I was still deep in Dreamland when the winners, Firehiwot Dado of Ethiopia and Geoffrey Mutai of Kenya, crossed the finish line. When I was younger (up through last year) I fantasized about proving to myself that I have what it takes to run this iconic race once. Considering that I have now reached that stage in life where my heart could rip out of my throat Alien-style every time I climb the five flights of stairs leading up to my office, I have concluded that it would behoove me to sit this race out for the remainder of my life. Yet, I can envision myself sitting across from Milton and while nursing alcoholic beverages we engage in the following conversation:
Me: I’ve made a decision. I’m going to quit writing my blog, cut back on my drinking, eat healthy, and spend this entire year training for the 2012 New York City marathon. What do ya think?
Milton: No, you’re not!
Me: Will you wait for me at the finish line?
Milton: Sure. With an ambulance or an undertaker? [To our server.] We’ll have the hot wings and another round.
There is also a wheelchair division, not to imply I’m eligible to compete in that one (yet). If there’s a shopping cart race, maybe Milton and I could participate in that variation and take turns pushing each other through the five boroughs.
Enough with the self-mocking, I did have the energy to walk around Central Park the Saturday before the race. I entered picture-taking frenzy mode without even breaking into a sweat or requiring a full body massage. Below is a behind-the-scenes Lame Adventures-style look at marathon preparations.
Central Park West in full marathon banner mode.