(Pussy)
I'd like to explain what I observed. So my wake-up call was at 5:50 a.m. I haven't woken up that early since I don't remember. That sucked. Then my sister and I drove 52 miles to the race getting stuck in traffic once we got off the exit. We park and the first trip to the port-a-potty was in order. Next we get on the shuttle bus and we sit watching the people who are extreme runners. Girls with watches making funny noises, guys in shorts that barely cover their sack, old men with wrinkly skin smelling like rotten cheese. A great day was in order.
We get off the bus and make our way to the start of the race. People were warming up by running sprints. Who runs sprints right before they have to run 13.1 miles? People who shop at Trader Joe's and other liberal assholes, I assume. I get to the boardwalk and stand in line with the other 8-11,000 people and think to myself, "why did you agree to this?" The nerves hit my stomach. It's not like I was competing to win, but once a runner always a runner. The pack in front of me begins to move. Race time.
My sister and I decided to run along side each other for as long as possible. Due to my not being in shape, I didn't think I was going to last very long, but I was going to give it my all regardless. We get to the first mile marker and high five. I swear I'm straight. It was motivating and the countdown began for me. 12 miles to go. Our pace was about 10 minutes a mile and I knew that was way too quick for this guy. I slowed down. Meanwhile I'm listening to Kanye West as if that's some sort of motivating musician.
3 miles more and the fun began. We broke off. Mile 4 to mile 12, I ran alone. Just me and Kanye. Kanye and I. What do you think about when you're running by yourself for such a long period of time? Everything. Eating, the girl's butt in front of you, not a combination of the first two, dying, crying, quitting. It all boils down to your psyche. Mentally telling yourself not to quit because it's so easy to. I kept going. Surprisingly, one of my motivating factors was the amount of fat people running in front of me. Fat people shouldn't be running faster than me. I had to make sure I surpassed them all, otherwise I'd hate myself.
I got all the way to mile 6 without stopping. 6 miles down, 7 to go. Fuck this shit, is what I kept repeating to myself. I walked. I watched as people less attractive and more heavy passed me by. I started running again. Oh, and real quick. They had these hydration stations with gatorade and water. However, they were diluting the gatorade with...wait for it. Hose water. Hose water. I know you know what hose water tastes like. Now imagine mixing that with lemon-lime gatorade. Garbage. But I needed it so I suffered through. Back to my lack of dominance.
My feet and legs started giving out. I had blisters all over my feet. My ankles started to hurt. My knees were crackling. My butt hurt. I felt like I was falling apart. I kept on going. I get to mile 12 and I'm alternating between running and walking. I hear someone yell, "Mike". I turn around to see my sibling gaining ground. I shake my head no and take off. I'm super competitive. I hate losing, no matter what it is. My will power took over. I started running hard. She got real close. But with my last ounce of strength, I took off. I beat her by 26 seconds. Had she not stopped, I would have been dominated by 5 minutes. But she did. And I beat her. Scummy? Perhaps. But I like winning.
To make an unnecessarily long story a bit shorter, I feel like shit today. I'm suffering from blisters on each one of my toes. My knees feel like I switched bodies with Yogi Berra. My traps hurt. I don't know how that's even impossible. I got some real bad chaffing. Like real bad. I've been walking like someone shoved a huge stick up my ass. I slept for 11 hours. Now I'm writing a blog about it. It just goes to show you how much "I am better than you."
(Winners)
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