OK. I’ve gotten my number for the NYC Half. 151081. What’s the deal with that? The race site says numbers go to 15999. I speculated to teammate John Nelson that I’d be starting in the Bronx. He reassured me. No. I’d start at the Rockies. Hell, it may be the ones in Colorado.

So I sent a note to NYRR asking what was happening. I received a terse, all-caps reply, “THAT IS YOUR ENTRY NUMBER.” OK. Make me feel like a dick for asking. One of, as Hans Gruber would put it, the benefits of a classical education is the ability to, well, read, and as I noted in response, NYRR said it’s my “race number.” NYRR might want to be a tad clearer in the future. And work on its people skills. Maybe I should try to join its board.

Yes, I’m starting to get nervous about the race. My left Achilles tendon has been bothering me off and on, but it seems OK when I run, so we’ll see. Having blown up at the Manhattan Half, I was hoping to be ready for this one. I’ve gotten in some good tempo runs and some decent long runs, so I’m optimistic. To a point. Why did I enter this stupid thing?

Don’t Cry For Me

TK posted the “League of Their Own” clip of Tom Hanks repeating the truism, “there’s no crying in baseball.” I’m not so sure about whether that’s true in running, speaking for me. I was on the edge of tears when I stopped just north of 90th Street in NYC 2006 (and TK notes Kara Goucher’s tears at Boston). Racing a marathon is such an internally big-deal.

The crying meme is a hook for a couple of entries I came upon in the last day, one of someone whose every entry I read and another of someone I read now and then. The first, Building a Faster Me, told her horror story that has destroyed her chances of racing well at Boston. Her response? Not much I can do about it, I’ll have my chance again, and I’ll do it for the fun of it. (I’m not going to mention the hole-in-my-foot woes of someone else training for a spring marathon.) (Both of these blogs are worth regular visits.)

The other was one of those do-I-really-want-to-do-this posts, which brought to mind not only my recent soliloquy on the subject but also the race/run distinction I’ve been applying since this time last year, i.e., if you don’t want to do the requisite work for a marathon, you ain’t gonna be racing it, even if you put up a crappy (for you) time that others find mighty impressive even if you know it’s a joke notwithstanding that it qualifies for a race held on Patriots Day. More important, though, it was somewhat silly, bordering on self-indulgent crap (a reason the blog’s not on my must-read list). If you’ve been running for a while, you may have doubts at the margins, you sometimes have to back-off and re-align priorities. What you don’t have is doubt about the core belief system, i.e., I run because I’m a runner. Up. Down. Sideways. What do I want? Why do I want it? How much do I want it?

Come to think of it, it’s bullshit that there’s none of in racing.


Enough of that. Here are the videos. Couple of things from OK Go.

There’s a set of how-we-made-it shorts. And its classic, better way to use a treadmill:

And now for something completely different.

And here’s the Hanks clip (via TK*):


* which I learned means not-quite-done (“to come“) in publishing lingo (return)