Monday, November 03, 2008

Marathon Man

Oh my god, running! Am I right?

All sweat and special shirts and shoes that cost more than any date I've ever personally paid for and pushing through the pain and more sweat and, I'd imagine, lots of blisters. I seriously don't know how you runners put up with all that nonesense. I mean, I'm sure having two percent body fat and living until you're a million helps mitigate the bullshitty physical agony and it probably even offsets the cost a little bit, at least in your mind, but still... yuck to running, I say, though I admire you greatly for your perseverance and general studliness.

I bring it up because, yesterday, I bore witness to what is quite possibly the pinnacle of achievement with regards to the sport of running: The New York City Marathon. I might be a little fuzzy on the facts, but if you're unfamiliar with the concept, the NYC Marathon is this race where nine million people all line up on a bridge and then, at the word "Go," they take off in a dead sprint for 7,339,281 miles until everyone has dropped dead, save for one. He or she is then crowned the winner and THAT'S how we pick who's going to be Mayor of New York every year.

I'm pretty sure that's how it all goes down. Truthfully, I was much more focused on drinking my weight in bloody marys yesterday, and then also drinking a lot of beer and eating a wide assortment of unhealthy foods and letting them all swirl around in my guts for twelve hours like all the twisters in Twister, but made of poo. That was basically my day and, if I do say so myself, I was entirely successful in my efforts.

See, there's this thing people have in New York called a "Marathon Party" and it's where you start drinking at 8am and you don't stop until you're tackled by police officers for trying to join the marathon mid-race fully nude and crying. In general, it's a wonderful concept, this Marathon Party; you get to celebrate a whole bunch of people achieving their goal and performing an incredible feat of human endurance, AND you get do it while obliterating brain cells with a delicate mixture of tomato juice, horseradish, and enough vodka to melt a penny. It's truly a magical time to be young and alive in this, the City of Apples (or whatever) and it's fast becoming one of my favorite pseudo-holidays. Beats the snot of St. Patrick's Day, anyway, because at least with the Marathon you don't have to watch frat guys puke green out their noses like gnarly Double Dare physical challenges.

Now, yes, there IS a downside to all the merriment. Namely, I have an NYC Marathon sized hangover rumbling through my brain/belly/aching bones, etc. This would be fine... except... um... I have a job interview in about an hour and I'm afraid I'm going to have a hard time selling myself as a model employee when I'm sweating liquor through my dress shirt and trying to get all the vomit in the trash can while begging for my potential boss to hold back my hair. Should be interesting, or at the very least, soul-scarring.
But you know... this feeling sick and everything... totally worth it. Because yesterday was Marathon Day! And that's an event worth dying for!!! You know, metaphorically. Not ACTUALLY dying. That would be lame, especially since I'm not a runner and really wouldn't be passionate about all this if there weren't a lot of free booze involved. But you know what I mean. Or maybe you don't... I dunno... whatever, I'm going to put a cold rag on my forehead... lousy Marathon, being all awesome while I drink...


Blogger The Brooklyn Boy said...

Awesome. I spent the marathon heckling runners from my balcony, which overlooks part of the route. There's nothing better than spotting someone with a two-syllable name and chanting it with increasing frequency as they traverse the block, culminating in a potentially awkward, "I'm-waving-at-you-because-I-have-to-but-have-no-idea-who-you-are" moment.

11:13 AM  
Blogger Lioux said...


Doesn't America Run on Dunkin'®™©™?!

1:28 PM  
Blogger Todd said...

Lioux, Real America runs on Meth.

1:51 PM  
Blogger Subway Gal said...

So, kinda like the non-Irish (me) celebrating St. Patrick's Day with lots of booze, you did not partake in the marathon, but did celebrate it with lots of booze? Hmmmmmmmmm a new excuse to drink a lot? I just may have to add this "holiday" to my calendar.

2:26 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

FYI, that first beer after any lengthy run, combined with a runner's high, is a toll-free expressway to the land o' happy glow. Just sayin'.


4:43 PM  
Anonymous sara said...

I ran the marathon, went to a marathon party, and drank many bloody marys. As a random reader of the blog, please know we runners appreciate you drunk people randomly yelling our name from the side of the road. Really! Because in all honestly, I am running toward beer.

6:30 PM  
Blogger Bill From Gainesville said...

Running is something I do in spurts for a few miles about three or four days of the week, for a couple of months, and then I dont run again for basically 3 to 5 months. I hate running but I also hate my gut as well. so what I do is sometimes I fight my gut, and sometimes I dont, right now I am in that not fighting it mode. (more and more I seem to be in this stage longer and longer as I get older )

3:39 PM  

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