Hi. My name is Kevin. It’s been nine weeks since I started training to run Saturday’s 5K to raise money to find a cure for juvenile myositis.
My lungs are strong. I might take up smoking.
My thighs are -- hey, stop that! My Love does not want you thinking about my thighs.
My calves are chiseled. Like sculpted butter.
I ask, “Where is Jennifer Garner and her rubber gloves when I am in my hour of need?” Yeah, probably oiling down that Affleck clown.
Today, I’ll drive five hours to Baltimore where I will meet my fate. On the outside, I am going to be the happy-go-lucky-sarcastically-whiny ol’ self you’ve learned to tolerate. Inside, I’m going to be a gooey heap of wet linguine because I’ve been carbo-loading for 19 days. My pee is pure starch. Lumps included.
Actually, I think I’m going to be fine. I’ve have never missed or cut short one of my training runs as much as I’ve wanted to. If I can motivate myself without anyone watching, I’m sure I’ll do even better when pushed by several thousand other runners exuding confidence, adrenaline and rancid B.O.
Here’s some of my tips, observations and thoughts from this whole hellish process:
When running in the road, always face oncoming traffic. This will give your life several extra milliseconds to flash before your eyes.
I always brush my teeth before a run because I like my post-jog regurgitation with a hint of minty freshness.
A few times, bad weather forced me to do my training runs on a treadmill. I now have great sympathy for hamsters.
Given what I paid for an upgraded pair of running shoes, you'd think the charger would have been included.
I always run in one of the shirts My Love has collected from her completing past marathons and half-marathons. This makes all my sweating, limping, and huffing and puffing seem less pathetic to passersby.
I understand the “built in” lining in my running shorts means I don’t need to wear underwear but who am I to deny the boys an extra hug.
My longest run took me past five churches – Catholic, Lutheran, Baptist, Protestant and Jehovah Witness – and the local Jewish community center. Hope! Not once did I pass these places and feel upon my body even a hint of hellfire. Despair! None of them tried to recruit me for their softball teams.
A good motivation to increase your speed is fear of soiling yourself on a public street.
A great motivation to not pass out during your run is fear you’ll tip over into the street and have your head squashed like a melon under Gallagher’s mallet.
The best motivation to run is this one right here:
Thanks to a generous friend of Cure JM, the all-volunteer nonprofit I’m running for, any donation you make between now and Saturday, Oct. 13, to support me or one of my fellow fundraisers at the Baltimore Running Festival will be MATCHED dollar-for-dollar -- up to a total of $10,000. Give a little credit card love to one (or all) of these caring bloggers: