The title was meant to be said in a "Mortal Kombat" voice. Indulge me!
So this weekend I had the pleasure of sitting in the last tweaks of warm weather that late September New England has to offer, watching two of my favorite people (Husband and good friend Coach S. Lou) participate in the Hollis, NH Applefest Half-Marathon. Well, to explain the enormity of this triumph, let me go back a few months...no, okay, it's gonna be a year. Cue time travel music. (Again! Sounds suspiciously like the "Mortal Kombat" theme. So strange.)
Last year sometime in May:
"Honey, we should totally run a half-marathon," Husband says.
"Hecks yeah!" I cry in excitement. "We'll get in so much shape! We'll run every evening around the harbor, we'll bond, we'll be so awesome! Which half-marathon are we going to run?"
"Look! This one's close and it serves apple crisp at the end!"
Last year sometime in September:
"Crap, wasn't that half-marathon we signed up for sometime this week?"
"Ah, nuts. Shouldn't we have trained for it or something?"
"Probably. Hey, pass the ice cream."
This year sometime in May:
"Hey, honey! Let's sign up for that half-marathon again! We'll totally get in so much shape, we'll run every evening around the harbor, we'll bond, we'll be so awesome!"
"Umm...I think I'm pregnant."
"I'll do it! For the baby!"
This year a week ago:
"Half-marathon's coming up. I totally forgot to train."
"That's alright. Pass the ice cre---"
"I think I'm gonna do it anyways."
So, having run a total of four miles of training in the past two years, my good/crazy husband jumped into a 13.1 mile race and totally ran it. Er...kinda. The point is he finished it! Pretty freaking awesome, right? He's got this way of just bulling into things and attacking them with breathless determination with no regard to fear, failure or (in the case of running 13.1 miles without proper training) personal injury. Not saying that everything should be approached like this, but when it works, it's pretty dang impressive. I think I really like the guy.
Anyways, go him. Go Ms. Lou, too. This post was meant as nothing but a hearty "I salute you" to all those crazy runners out there. I salute you and the poor knees you lost somewhere around mile 12.
At least you got apple crisp, right?