Why I'll Never Run a Marathon

One of my dear friends from high school, Ammer (who I've know for most of my life, really), texted me on Monday and asked me if I wanted to "chaperone" a trip to New York that her sister and friends had "planned". Naturally, I took her up on the offer, and thus thwarted any efforts for blog posts on Monday or yesterday.

Our charges, while being wonderfully bright young women,  had no expectations for their trip to the big city, and no plans besides taking the bus to and from New York. Ammer is a shamelessly meticulous planner, and while I've learned to "go with the flow" somewhat in college, I just function better if there is at least a bare-bones itinerary for my day. I don't care if that itinerary is "wake up, do nothing for a while, have dinner, and do more nothing," but at least there's a plan for all the nothingness. So we made a plan for the girls to see the big things - Times Square, Empire State Building, Rockefeller Center - and then scheduled in some shopping and meeting up with some of our sophisticated city friends along the way, including my cousin J.

I am by no means the most accomplished runner in my family. One of my cousins is 25 and she has already run 6 marathons. Her sister, "J" for the blog, was a stud cross country runner for her college, just completed her first marathon, qualifying for the Boston Marathon (3:30 or under). J now lives and works in New York, and she and Ammer were best friends before my cousins moved to New York when we were all in middle school. I'll spare you all of the strange and coincidental overlap between my life and Ammer's, but we decided to meet up with J for lunch and catch up.

We met at a hole-in-the-wall Jewish deli by Madison Square Park, and after ordering our soups and sandwiches, J briefly mentioned the marathon she ran in the fall, but clarified that she isn't "cut out for distance races". I just looked at her and thought, "if you aren't cut out for distance races, then who is?" J just screams RUNNER as soon as you look at her - thin, petite, strong, and totally fit. She explained that she just wanted to qualify for Boston and say that she did it. But she also said that she had to take two weeks off from work leading up to the race, and since the marathon, she hasn't been able to run and it still hurts to walk up the stairs. Two reasons why I'll never run a marathon, and the inspiration for this list.

Why I'll Never Run a Marathon
1) The first guy to run a marathon died. Pheidippides.

2) I don't have time. 65 mile weeks are a huge time commitment, and I'm just not willing to sacrifice my social life or Top Chef to get my training done.

3) I run to stay healthy. It seems that everyone who runs a marathon gets hurt. Physically or mentally. People either can't run at all after the marathon because of an injury, or they don't even run the marathon because they get hurt during training. Then there are those who just get burned out. They get sick of training, tired of running. I still love running. I'm not willing to risk losing that just for a race.

4) Four hours is a long time.  It's a long time to do anything without stopping. I mean, if someone said, "Do your favorite thing in the world for four hours straight," I'd probably choose to sit at a bar and drink Guinness. But drinking Guinness for four hours straight is a comparable feat of physical prowess to running a marathon, since you'd probably end up like our friend Pheidippides. Frankly, the only person I know who could do it is Kevin, and Guinness runs through that man's veins.

5) Triathlon first. I'm a huge fan of cross-training. And if my cross-training was built right into my race training, I'd say sign me up! I'm much more excited about doing a triathlon than running a marathon, and it just makes more sense than running myself into the ground.

6) I won't do it alone. Agreeing to be a running partner in a marathon is like entering into a mini-marriage without the paperwork. I need someone who will talk when I need to talk, let me zone in with Lil' Wayne when I need a pump up, and will push me towards the finish line. A running partner sees you at your highest highs and lowest lows in a marathon. The perfect running partner is not something to be taken lightly.

This is all to say that I'm willing to be convinced. If you find me in a weakened state, say at the end of a half marathon during the endorphin high and say things like, "It's just like this, but twice," I'd probably say, "Hell yeah!" and then curse you on my sixteen mile training run. If at some point I have the perfect running buddy, a few triathlons under my belt, and all sorts of free time, and still feel like my race resume is lacking that quintessential marathon, then I might suck it up and do it. But until then, I'm perfectly content. In fact, I still love running, and I'd like to keep it that way for a little while longer.

TOMORROW: You made how many cookies today? Yeah, that many. It's Christmas y'all.