Runner’s Blog Day 1: Getting ready for Rock ‘N’ Roll Marathon
I’ll start with a disclaimer: I’ve never been accused of being a genius. Not once. Not ever.
Truth be told, I sometimes have trouble even spelling genius. I tend to get the u and i backwards and have to go back and fix it. Happens almost every time.
Not being a genius is why I wound up in journalism in the first place. It’s why I’m not doing something more useful for a living, like fixing air conditioners or making barbecue, or teaching the next generation how not to spell genius. (Note to students: the i goes before the u)
Not being a genius is why I’m going to run another half marathon.
This one takes place Nov. 7 in Savannah. You might’ve heard of it. The Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon. It’s a big deal, attracts tens of thousands of runners to races all over the country.
And you know what? I used to think they were all a bunch of deranged hippies. Only now I’m about to be right there with them. Or behind them, more likely, somewhere in the back, chugging along, a deranged old hippy myself.
Here’s another disclaimer: I’m not running the marathon itself. I may not be a genuis (SEE!), but I’m not stupid either. A marathon is 26.2 miles. Nobody entirely sane runs 26.2 miles on purpose.
I’m running the half, which is 13.1 miles. I think it’ll take me about 2 hours and 45 minutes to run that far, as long as I don’t get lost.
That’s 12 minutes faster than my first half marathon, by the way. I ran that one in 2:57:40, which is slow for most ordinary humans, or at least those who still have the use of both feet.
I ran my first half marathon just the other day, mind you, did the Milestone Half Marathon on Sept. 12. Ran the whole way, even. I’m happy I managed that. Hooray for me.
But here’s where I get weird. Because the Milestone was supposed to put an exclamation point on and an end to my sudden urge to be a long distance runner.
That was the plan. After the Milestone I’d go back to doing shorter runs, largely because my wife thinks all this running is making me walk funny.
Note to wife: I’ve always walked funny. It’s just more noticeable after I run.
Anyway, the urge to be a distance runner came on about two years age. Before that, I hated running. I hated running mostly because it requires you to run, but I also hated running because I’m not built to be a runner.
I’m built to be a non-runner.
I have short legs and a big head and, well, I’m just built to be in one spot, with my hands in my pockets, preferably leaning against something and trying to look like I know why I’m there and what I’m about.
I hated running when I played sports like football and baseball and basketball, hated it when I was in the Army and we called it “running PT,” and agreed wholeheartedly with an old first sergeant who smoked like five packs of cigarettes a day and often shared the philosophy that running PT was stupid, and the only good reason to run anywhere was if someone was chasing you.
And now, at the age of 53, I’ve got two 5Ks, a 10K and a half marathon under my belt and am about to run another half marathon. All this since I turned 51. Go figure. Maybe it’s a midlife crisis trying to sneak up on me. Whatever it is, it can probably run faster than I am. But it’ll have to catch me.
This blog, or whatever it is, is intended as a journal of sorts, a place to write about running the Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon.
Mostly, I’m doing it because when I applied for a press pass to run in this year’s half marathon I pitched the story of posting stories on our websites about how a old middle-aged ex-Army guy who spent 20 years as a reporter and smoked cigarettes for 30 years and then quit and got real fat and then used running to lose weight is gearing up to run in the Rock ‘n’ Roll half marathon.
Besides, if I can run a half marathon, just about anyone can. So there’s that, too. Though there’s also this, from Dad, who IS a genius: “If I want to go 13 miles, I’ll drive there.”
Random stuff at the end:
Rock ‘n’ Roll song of the day: “Born to Run,” by Bruce Springsteen.
Miles run today: 7.
Inspirational words for the day:
The beginning is the most important part of the work. Plato