Category Archives: Humor
BREAK ON THROUGH TO THE OTHER SIDE
“Lead, follow or get (the hell) out of the way.” –Thomas Paine
NOTE: Read all the way through for a very helpful race hint that you won’t find in any other book or guide!
It’s like this, but minus the cars.
Today I feel the need to bitch a little, specifically about something that a certain group of racers does. I don’t know if it’s out of naivety, ignorance or simply not caring about your fellow runner (I suspect a little of all of them).
I’m talking about the “walking wall.” This is not the wall you hit when you bonk in a race. This is far far more frustrating.
This is when 4, 5 or 6 racers (almost always walkers) create a massive wall right in the middle of the course and move along at a snail’s pace, forcing the entire race to go around them. It happens occasionally in full marathons, more often in half marathons but this plague is quickly reaching pandemic proportions at 10Ks.
Am I overreacting? I mean, how bad can it be?
THE DAY THE MUSIC DIED
“Gotta Blame it on something. Blame it on the rain” –Milli Vanilli
Scott’s iPod Shuffle
2011- 2014
This morning at the gym, my iPod shuffle stopped playing mid-workout. The battery had been failing over the past few weeks and even quit during the final two miles of the Atlanta Half Marathon. I thought maybe it was my damn fault for not charging it fully.
Nope.
A quick trip to the Apple store today confirmed my fears. The diagnosis was terminal. My little shuffle had played “Ooh Eeh Ooh Ah Aah Ting Tang Walla Walla Bing Bang” for the final time.
As I stood in line at Best Buy tonight to purchase my replacement shuffle (okay, so my mourning period was brief), I realized this was the third iPod that running had claimed. It also made me think about the first time I killed an iPod.
CHECK OUT MY BACKSIDE
Behold my backside!
The other day I was in the supermarket parking lot putting groceries in my SUV when an elderly lady walked up to me and asked a question.
“What is that thing on your backside?”
I was stunned for a moment. Was this septuagenarian taking the whole cougar thing a little too far? I mean, I’m flattered, but…
Then I realized she was talking about the sticker on my SUV. The one that reads “26.2.”
After calling her a naughty minx for checking out the “junk on my trunk” and getting a nice laugh in return, I explained that I was a marathon runner and that the sticker represented the distance of the race.
She smiled. And as she started to walk to the store she turned and said, “Well, it certainly shows on you.”
Like I said, a naughty minx.
Run on!
GOING NOWHERE FAST
On the fast track to nowhere.
After an obligatory rest day following the New Year’s Race half marathon, I hit the gym this morning excited for a maintenance run and a little speed work.
Now I can hear some of you out there saying, “Wait, you went to the gym to run? You don’t actually run on a treadmill do you?”
Yes, yes I do.
“So you must live in the Northeast where it’s currently -4 trillion degrees and wooly mammoths are roaming free. That’s why, right?”
SMILE AND SAY “CHEESY!”
Now that’s a camera!
An e-mail showed up in my inbox today that simultaneously filled me with excitement and dread.
“Race photos are ready for your review.”
NOTE: I’m not talking about the millions of smartphone pics and selfies snapped pre/during/post race by runners that will end up as Facebook or Instagram posts. That is a blog for another day. Today, I’m talking about the photos taken by the “pros.”
I ran the New Year’s Race half marathon on Saturday and the fine folks at Marathon Foto (one of the main race photo services) were on hand, snapping away like there was no tomorrow. And now those Kodak moments were primed for my perusal.
You see, deep down everyone wants a formal memento of their race experience. This is something you trained weeks or even months for and that moment is finally happening. How cool would it be to have a professional image of your accomplishment captured and framed for all to see… that iconic pose of you running triumphantly along the street and displaying perfect racing form.
Sounds great, doesn’t it? And it is, in theory.
Tripping The Kenyans 