Monday, November 7, 2011

First Haircut, No Teeth, and How Not to Train for a Marathon

Daddy, what have you done to me!!!!
I took young Dylan to get sheared this past weekend - his first real haircut (in other words, the first one that was not administered by me).  Fair play to him, the boy did well - he sat on my lap, didn't get his ears cut off, didn't cry, and was held in place by the promise of a sucker if he kept reasonably still. 

I think he likes it - I have caught him admiring himself in the mirror a few times since the weekend.

On top of that, his older brother is now shy both his front teeth.  Oh yes, it's that classic once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to take truly embarrassing pictures that I will gleefully pull out the first time he brings a girlfriend home.

Right now he is blissfully ignorant of that fact, and is just happy the tooth fairy paid him a visit.

On the running front, the San Antonio Rock and Roll marathon is this coming weekend, and I am happily tipping my nose and blowing a raspberry at it - never have I been so unprepared.  Looking for ideas for a speed advantage, I am down to shaving before the race and cutting my fingernails. 

And that's not going to help much, because long runs have been almost non-existent.  I have barely run in the last few weeks, my throat feels like somebody's playing the violin on it with razorblades, my knee has been cursing me out for months, I've been working long hours and late nights for weeks, and tomorrow I'm headed off to San Diego on a business trip for the rest of the week.

Though on the plus side,  I did watch George Romero's "Night of the Living Dead" over the weekend.  Figured it would prepare me for the last few miles.

Yes, overall preparation has been excellent.

I ran San Antonio a few years ago - the first year it was part of the "Rock and Roll" franchise.  I'm not really a big fan of the super commercialized races ("Occupy San Antonio marathon" anyone?), though I did enjoy the race and got what was then a huge PR.  I mostly remember shaking my head at people who bought finishers shirts before the race and then had the gall to wear them at the start line.  I also remember that when you finished, you were herded through the "marathon souvenir shop" before you could get out of the finisher's chute.

It's a wonder they haven't figured out a way to charge your credit card at each water stop!!!

Not to worry, I plan on using my tried and true marathon approach - rocking on up, going out way too fast, crashing hard somewhere mid-race, limping across the finish line while grimacing and cramping in both legs, and then being rolled home.

Consider it my protest statement.  Power to the people - especially the lazy ones like me.

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