This is way past the fact but the Boston Marathon last Monday was slightly F-ing spectacular. Life changing even. Like finding out that Mickey Mouse killed a guy in ’72 over a drug debt. I love Mickey. How could he do that? But there’s a blood stained shirt and affidavits that once he gets a few in him he gets all stabby. While I can’t confirm that, I do know that I’m a different man since Beantown. I jumped in at mile 11 a boy and turned off the course at mile 24 a boy that wants to run a marathon. Not quite a man, but no longer just a dude who likes to do three milers through Times Square.
So what’s the next step? Welllllllllllll. Fact is that I want to pop my marathon cherry in the NYC. This is my city, this is my home, this should be my first marathon. I want to distribute 26.2 miles worth of high fives. Take it from the SI into the BK, kill some Queens, cross into Manhattan and distribute the ^5s like I’m being contracted by a high five distribution organization, trudge through the Bronx, and get back into Manhattan ready to rock and F-ing roll. Then rock Central Park like I’m the Beatles in ’68.
Despite the fact that we’re theoretically not allowed to run the race because of work, I really am not looking at NYC as something I want to do well – just do.
But to get there I need to qualify. Theoretically, I could probably just get in with some help, but there’s nothing that appeals to me about being in a race I didn’t earn. So I’ve got one chance to make it happen and that’s this coming weekend in Brooklyn. I have to turn a 1:23 over a distance I’ve never even come close to racing, at a pace I have zero chance of keeping, on a course I’m going to fall apart on. I haven’t run a race longer than a 10K in years, but now I’m going to turn a half at sub 6:20…Sweet.
More is coming but my B-Town run is attached along with my shots from the race.