August 16, 2007
Well I've gone and done it, and it's too late to turn back. I promised my friend Sarah that I would run the Dallas White Rock Marathon with her in December.
A $90 entrance fee and 26.2 miles of running...non-stop. There will be no cowboys kicking me with spurs, there will be no criminals chasing me with stun-guns, and there will be no wild boars trying to take a bite out of my arse. This run will occur as a result of my free will and choice...how ridonculous is that?
We've decided to run this race as our last big hurrah before I move back to New England. Sure, we could have taken a cruise to Mexico, but who wants to look back and say, "Remember that time at karaoke...?" when you can fondly look back and ask questions like, "Remember that time in the medical tent...?" or "Remember that time when we were licking the sidewalk...?"
So what does that mean for you, the reader? Well, it does not mean that The Lawsons do Dallas! will turn into an exclusive running blog. I personally find running far too dull...and repetitive...and painful (actually, that's made up...the truth is, half-fast has cornered the market on funny running blogs, and I can't even begin to compete). Believe you me, if this blog were to cover one topic exclusively, it would be NASCAR, no question. I love race cars and I love RVs, so to me, NASCAR is one step above eating cherry-cheesecake with Saint Peter on my own personal cloud in heaven.
Anywho, it means that for the next four months you'll enjoy stories of me pooping behind porta-potties, pooping on the side of the highway, pooping in random stranger's toilets, and when my stars haven't quite aligned, pooping in my pants. At least that's how it went last time I ran a marathon in 2004, and that was fine, because pooping in your pants is cool--really cool.
You will also get to hear my thoughts on gaining weight.
Ok, I know what you're thinking...'Gaining weight? While training for a marathon!? That's not how it's supposed to work!" Well guys, get those thoughts out of your head right now, because I'm not your average marathon runner. You see, as soon as I turn in a marathon entrance form I immediately feel entitled to eat whatever I want, whenever I want. And when I say 'whatever I want' I mean 16 slices of pepperoni pizza dipped in ranch dressing with a side of fried chicken...for a snack. Seriously, I committed to this race yesterday, I haven't even completed my first official training run, and today I have already eaten a bowl of cereal, a couple pieces of chocolate, and a large plate of enchiladas.
Current time: 10:57 a.m.
This, my friends, is going to be fantastic.