1.
Realize that
your lifestyle is increasingly defined by a recliner and a television.
Also, beer and salty snacks.
2.
Notice that you
have started unbuttoning your 36-inch waist jeans to create room for your gut
when you are driving. Your body has also
started emitting involuntary noises when you lift yourself from your recliner to
fetch beer.
3. So you are ready to overhaul your lifestyle. Now what? Now you dramatically rise from your
recliner (ignore the grunting sounds) and boldly proclaim that it’s time for a
change! Then go to your bedroom to dig
around your bottom dresser drawer for sweat pants and look for old basketball
sneakers in back corner of closet. Announced to your wife that you are
going for a run.
4.
Pause to allow time for your wife to stop laughing. Tell her you are serious and then head out the door.
5.
Run a few
blocks through your neighborhood. Your legs will feel heavy and your
lungs will burn. You will also wonder why you have a metallic taste in
your mouth. Maybe it’s blood? Maybe you are having a heart attack?
An exercise allergy? Nobody knows for sure. But do not worry.
You will probably be fine.
6.
Repeat Step
5 for the next four weeks, taking a recovery day after every two or three
runs. Legs are stronger (or maybe just less weak). Lungs burn, but
not as much. The metallic taste should be gone. If your tongue
aches, you are unknowingly attempting to push it through the roof of
your mouth during your runs. Your neck and shoulders are probably stiff as well. Relax. Pretend you are holding a potato
chip between each thumb and forefinger as you run and your goal is to not crush or drop the
chips. At the end of your run, you can pretend to eat the chips.
7.
It’s now
time to buy proper running shoes. You should probably have done
this before you started. But you didn’t and now it’s time. Also,
get some non-cotton running shorts with mesh lining because, well, chaffing.
8. Find a
running route in your neighborhood, preferably with marked distances on trails
designated for non-motorized vehicles. Gradually increase your distance
until you can run at least three miles comfortably four or five times a
week. Gradually increase your distances so at least once a week you can
run five or six miles comfortably. “Comfortably”
means you don’t feel like puking during the majority of your run.
9.
Do this for
ten years (optional).
10. Now you are ready for the next step. Move to Boise, Idaho. Buy a
house in the foothills with neighbors who will be called “Adrian” and “Kira,” or
collectively, “the Pfisterers” (because those are their names). When Adrian and Kira invite you to run with
them, accept.
11. Discover that running with the
Pfisterers means running a lot of trails in the foothills. This, you discover, frequently involves running up hills. Running
with the Pfisterers also means you start adding a “long run” to your weekends.
While you will initially hate them with a white hot intensity (the
Pfisterers, as well as the long run and the hills), you must find your own Adrian and
Kira. This will help your running immensely. You will even one day
look forward to your long uphill runs with good friends. Promise.
12. Turn 40 and realize it’s time for a midlife crisis. You can’t afford a convertible or a
mistress. Or perhaps you wouldn’t be interested in the kind of
convertible or mistress that you could afford. So you decide: I’m going
to run a marathon!
13. Select a marathon at least four
months out. Register and pay the entry fee before you change your
mind. Now you’re locked in.
14. Find a 16-week training program
for rookie marathoners on the Internet. If meeting new people doesn't freak you out (see my earlier post on social anxiety issues), find a
local running group that offers training for beginning marathoners.
15. Follow the program you chose religiously.
This will include a weekly long run. The long run is important. This is how
you gradually but steadily train your body to complete a 26.2-mile race.
Are there circumstances when it’s OK to skip the long run? No. But
what if you’re hung over? You should have thought about that before accepting
that fourth gin and tonic mixed to perfection by Adrian Pfisterer. Raining? Wear a rain jacket. Hot?
Get out before the heat, slap on sunscreen, and don’t forget to
hydrate. What if it’s hot and
you’re hung over? Tough shit. Get out
there.
16. After 16 weeks of diligently,
obsessively adhering to your training program, you are ready to run your
marathon.
17. The night before the race, lay
out all your gear so you don’t forget anything in the morning. Skip the gin and tonics. Set your alarm and get to bed early. Lay in bed staring at the ceiling until it is
time to get up.
18. It’s race day. Get up. Go to the bathroom. Eat something. Drink something. Go to the
bathroom. Drink something else. Go the
bathroom. And one more trip to the bathroom. One final reminder: Don’t
forget to lube up. Trust me. And
don’t forget your butt crack and nipples.
The reasons will become apparent if you skip this step. Finally, DO NOT decide this is the day to
cinch up your shoe laces nice and tight even though you have never done this
before.
19.
Start
running. You are feeling great. You are prepared. But the tops of your feet are starting to hurt a bit. Quite a bit. About ten miles in, stop and unlace your shoelaces because you
ignored the last part of Rule No. 18 and decided that race day would be a good day to cinch up your shoelaces nice and tight. And now
you feet have apparently swollen and you are in serious pain. OK, problem solved. Get back to running. After 26.2 miles you will be a marathoner.
20.
Take a few
weeks of well deserved rest. Then start
planning your second marathon.
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