The title of this blog may be a lie.
I really have no idea because I’ve never ran a marathon.
26.2 miles seems like a long way.
I know when I’m in the city if a restaurant is over 5 blocks away, I take a cab. Or I don’t go.
It has never ever occurred to me that I should run to the restaurant. And it’s only 5 blocks (although city blocks seem rather long).
So the thought of running over 26 miles seems insane to me.
But the thought of running a half marathon seems like sheer genius.
Waste my winter weekends traipsing around the ice and snow covered streets of small town America.
And then the big moment arrives.
Time to run with 20,000 like-minded completely insane people.
People who wear trash bags as jackets.
People who use porta potties like oxygen (anyone who uses a porta potty has completely lost their marbles… or REALLY has to go).
People who get sick along side the road during the race.
People who collapse from the heat.
People who double-over with leg cramps and scream like they are giving birth.
Runners are an odd group.
And I’m not too embarrassed to say I’m one of them.
I just don’t know why.