The Intro
You don't need to know about any of my other attempts to do something like this. You don't need to know about other blogs I've thought about writing, or other life changes I've thought about making. As far as you're concerned, you're excited to see a great story unfold. As far as you know, I'm just someone else, starting something different and its no big deal. Maybe it will even make for a good read. Well, for you, that begins here.
For me it began a long time ago, in Track and Field. I was in the field, of course, as I have never been much for the running. What's funny is, as I type this, I'm still not much for running. Hopefully, as you read it, I've learned to love it, as loving it will be the only thing that helps me through the next several months. This morning I took the first step in a marathoner's journey toward the marathon: I signed up. Alright, alright, I didnt sign up for the marathon itself. But I signed up for a half-marathon. Its "only" 13.1 miles and has that awful word "half" in front of it. Which I'm sure is a huge downer for the finisher of a half as they feel pretty sure that, though it wasn't a whole marathon, it was a whole something. BUT, Thirteen point one miles is farther than I drive to work in the morning, farther than the nearest Walmart and farther than I've ever travelled without some kind of wheels. I have to change positions in my car at 13.1 miles. I'm bored of a radio station at 13.1 miles. Even on a bicycle, I'm getting pretty tired at 13.1 miles.
This time, though, 13.1 miles is where I'm beginning.
Of course, to go from fat-ass to marathoner, one must officially start at fat-ass and officially end at completing a marathon. Well, you might be able to flip to the last entry and see that I do indeed make it, but right now, I'm still very early into the journey and I don't know that I'll make it to the end. So we're not even going to start talking about the M word until I get past the HM word. And, for the curious among you, with a BMI of 34.4 I'd say I perfectly qualify as a fat ass. Maybe when I've completed my mission, I'll circle back around and brag about my actual numbers being outrageously high and disgusting. For now, I'm just going to leave it at BMI...as are you.
Step one in becoming an offical marathoner is leaving behind all the things that characterizes one as a fatass. I have all the standard character traits: Laziness, craviness, whineyness, quiterness, and a growing-love-for-candy-ness. I'm lacking all the great noteable traits of the marathon-er: discipline, and masochism. Even now, I know there are more traits, but I have no idea what they are. I guess I'll figure out even more of those as I go. You're invited to fill in the gaps as you wish.
Noteable starting statistics: Farthest I've ever run at once: 2 miles...but that was in highschool.
Farthest Race I've ever completed: 17.2 but some of those they let me bike.
Longest I've ever devoted to actual hard core training without faulter: 3 weeks.
Weeks until my very first Half: 14
That which will make me feel like a real winner: Finishing
So here we go...you're invited. Now that I believe you're out there I can feel a little bit like someone's happiness is dependant upon me. If I don't do it, you'll be sad. There will be no amazing story, and no best-selling biography. The world will be at a loss if I don't make it. Now who would want the world to miss out on something like that?
For me it began a long time ago, in Track and Field. I was in the field, of course, as I have never been much for the running. What's funny is, as I type this, I'm still not much for running. Hopefully, as you read it, I've learned to love it, as loving it will be the only thing that helps me through the next several months. This morning I took the first step in a marathoner's journey toward the marathon: I signed up. Alright, alright, I didnt sign up for the marathon itself. But I signed up for a half-marathon. Its "only" 13.1 miles and has that awful word "half" in front of it. Which I'm sure is a huge downer for the finisher of a half as they feel pretty sure that, though it wasn't a whole marathon, it was a whole something. BUT, Thirteen point one miles is farther than I drive to work in the morning, farther than the nearest Walmart and farther than I've ever travelled without some kind of wheels. I have to change positions in my car at 13.1 miles. I'm bored of a radio station at 13.1 miles. Even on a bicycle, I'm getting pretty tired at 13.1 miles.
This time, though, 13.1 miles is where I'm beginning.
Of course, to go from fat-ass to marathoner, one must officially start at fat-ass and officially end at completing a marathon. Well, you might be able to flip to the last entry and see that I do indeed make it, but right now, I'm still very early into the journey and I don't know that I'll make it to the end. So we're not even going to start talking about the M word until I get past the HM word. And, for the curious among you, with a BMI of 34.4 I'd say I perfectly qualify as a fat ass. Maybe when I've completed my mission, I'll circle back around and brag about my actual numbers being outrageously high and disgusting. For now, I'm just going to leave it at BMI...as are you.
Step one in becoming an offical marathoner is leaving behind all the things that characterizes one as a fatass. I have all the standard character traits: Laziness, craviness, whineyness, quiterness, and a growing-love-for-candy-ness. I'm lacking all the great noteable traits of the marathon-er: discipline, and masochism. Even now, I know there are more traits, but I have no idea what they are. I guess I'll figure out even more of those as I go. You're invited to fill in the gaps as you wish.
Noteable starting statistics: Farthest I've ever run at once: 2 miles...but that was in highschool.
Farthest Race I've ever completed: 17.2 but some of those they let me bike.
Longest I've ever devoted to actual hard core training without faulter: 3 weeks.
Weeks until my very first Half: 14
That which will make me feel like a real winner: Finishing
So here we go...you're invited. Now that I believe you're out there I can feel a little bit like someone's happiness is dependant upon me. If I don't do it, you'll be sad. There will be no amazing story, and no best-selling biography. The world will be at a loss if I don't make it. Now who would want the world to miss out on something like that?
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