bakers dozen

If, three months ago, you had asked me if I had any interest in training for and running a half marathon through the streets of downtown San Jose come October, I would have looked at you, called you a fucking moron, and resumed eating my potato crisps.

However, here we are, one week shy of October, and I have not only surpassed my previous lifetime achievement of longest distance covered on foot above a brisk walk (though barely) of 4 miles, but I have run without stopping 12 whole miles using my own two feet! Humans shouldn't have to cover distances that far without wheels in this day and age!

Aside from the moderate complaints of slight hip and lower back pain, and a possible stress fracture in my right foot (merely a flesh wound) my body is holding up surprisingly well during these runs. I've overcome the mental hurdle of running this distance by tricking my body into thinking that if it just goes one more mile then I will let it stop and give it ice cream. Just one more...then one more...then one more...now ice cream? Right after this next mile... And then my body totally forgets about the ice cream when it registers that using this tactic it has successfully covered ten miles and burned 1,000 calories and who needs ice cream when it's 9:30AM and you've already accomplished so much??

Another big benefit of running this much is the superiority you have over pretty much everyone else you'll come across the rest of your weekend and how you get to lord your achievements over them mercilessly. For instance, if they tell you how they finally got around to staining that cabinet that they got from Goodwill last month, you can say "hey that's great, but you know what's even greater? Running 12 miles at 7:45 in the goddamn morning, that's what."

And then they win because you've showed them the joys of comparatives, and you win because you're obviously a more disciplined and higher functioning person.

It is also a real pleasure to walk into a sporting goods store or footwear establishment and when the salesperson walks up to you as you're admiring a nice pair of Saucony's, you drop a careless "yeah I just wonder how these will support my ankles during mile nine..." then pause for effect "...cause ya know, I'm a runner. I run."

Nevermind that I nearly faint if I push it over a 10 minute mile pace, or that sometimes each step sends a stab of pain up my right ankle and into my calf. Or that if I run with my sister's dog, at any given moment I can look down and he will be WALKING and looking up at me as if to say "is this all you've got?"

Because I am a runner. I run.