Wednesday, Aug. 27, 2003
Dear Diary:

When you read about running, you always read about people Hitting The Wall, coming to a point where they literally cannot go on. Me, I've never hit the wall.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday not only did I Hit The Wall, but it's my firm belief I may have collided with his girlfriend Linda, as well as Wendy, his second cousin twice removed, who was down for a visit.

Do they make body-sized bandages?

Yesterday was Day 2 of my ramped up training program for the Jog for the Jugs, a.k.a. Oh Yeah You'll Learn About Pain, Maggot. The instructions were disarmingly simple. Find a track. Run 400 meters. Then jog 400 meters. Repeat for a total of seven times each.

Well, first off, I live in the boonies so a track is out of the question. I hopped in the Marnmobile and found that the distance between my driveway and my neighbour Michelle's driveway is just a bit over 400 meters. Close enough.

You know, it's one thing to travel 400 meters in a car. It's quite another thing to be standing at the foot of your driveway and notice that your neighbour's driveway is way, way off in the distance. Let me amend that. It's way, way, WAY off in the distance, pretty close to 1/4 mile away.

As I was doing my stretching exercises in preparation for running, I mentally reviewed the last time I had run, as in really run 400 meters. I mean, I call what I've been doing running, but really, it's glorified jogging.

It took me a few seconds to realize that the last time I ran 400 meters was the fall of my final year of high school when we had a track module in phys ed.

My final year of high school was 1969-70.

The world was a somewhat different place then in the fall of 1969. Not only were all the Beatles still alive, heck the band was still together. The floppy disk had not yet been invented. The number one song for the year was "Sugar, Sugar" by the Archies.

And I was 18 years old.

Yes, there's been a little water under the bridge since the last time I ran 400 meters. Oh, who am I trying to kid here? There's been a freakin' Mississippi under the bridge since the last time I ran 400 meters.

Ah, but I am nothing if not optimistic. Stretching done, I started to run full throttle. I have to tell you, it felt glorious, at least for the first 200 meters or so. Then I could feel a mounting burn in my thighs and calves. I tried to ignore it and I held it off for quite a while but there was no way I could run the full 400 meters. I was at least 10 meters short of my goal when I dropped down to a jog.

Crap.

I jogged the rest of the distance to Michelle's driveway and then turned around and jogged back to my own driveway. I was completely and utterly winded. There was no way I could run another 400 meters right off so I took a one minute break and then started to run again.

That wall that athletes talk about hitting? I now know what that is. I hit it with a resounding thud about 3/4 of the way to Michelle's driveway. My legs basically said, "Running? We know not this thing called running. Jogging? We know not this thing called jogging." The best I could do was a humiliating stroll. Aye carumba.

This time it took a two minute break to get my breath back. I tried a third run. Remember that wall I talked about? Well, I didn't really have time to hit it--instead The Wall, Linda and Wendy pretty much came up and smacked me but good somewhere around the half way point. This time I wasn't even able to dredge up strolling. There are no words for how tired and discouraged I was. I quit at that point because the last thing I want to do is injure myself.

The spousal unit was finishing up breakfast when I came in and whimpered about the poor showing. He reminded me that much running would add up to 2800 meters, which would involve running over half my race as fast as I could. Was I planning to run it like that, he asked? Well, no, I just want to get my time down.

Put that way, I realized that I will just have to keep chipping away at this running portion and that whatever progress I make will have to do.

Crap.

You have no idea how testy this revelation has made me.

--Marn

P.S.--THE $1,000 JOG FOR THE JUGS GOAL HAS BEEN REACHED! So, of course, I raised the goal again. $1,500. Might as well shoot for the stars, eh?

There's five new inductees into the Bazonga Boosters Hall o' Fame, folks who have decided to spend some of their hard-earned buckazoids supporting the Jog for the Jugs Oct. 5 in Montreal! Yep,

Alone With Everybody
The Sound of the Sea
Sundry Mourning
Bear's Cave

Patty McGrath


can now proudly sport the shoddily Photoshopped yet justly coveted red rectangle below:

Boob oop de doop eh

P.P.S.- That iron woman, Karen is doing an unbelievable 60 MILE WALK FOR BREAST CANCER! If you don't want to sponsor me, perhaps you'd want to sponsor her. Yowza, that makes that 5K Jog for the Jugs seem embarrassingly short.

Mileage on the Marnometer: 396.87 miles (638.7 kilometers)
Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Half way smoochTen percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.
Goal for 2003: 500 miles - 804.5 kilometers

Going Nowhere Collaboration

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Want to delve into my sordid past?
She's mellllllllllllllting - Wednesday, Feb. 15, 2012 - Back off, Buble - Monday, Dec. 19, 2011 - Dispersed - Monday, Nov. 28, 2011 - Nothing comes for free - Monday, Nov. 21, 2011 - None of her business - Friday, Nov. 04, 2011 -


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