Today on the aeroplane ride to Nashville I finished reading
Joel Cohen's How to Lose a Marathon. As mentioned
earlier, Cara got me this
book as a Father's Day present. I am immediately turned off by
any book that anyone buys me, unless I've specifically asked
for it (and sometimes even then). Cara, however, means well
and is often paying more attention to what I like than I am.
She figured running + comedy was a win-win since I kind of
adore both. Begrudgingly I must admit she was right.
Cohen's book was light and entertaining while still letting
me revel in all that insider knowledge of the running world.
Like falling while running and hoping no one sees you're bleeding
everywhere. Or the chafing between one's legs or on the tips
of one's nipples. Or discussing pee color. If you've never
seen a woman drop her pants before squating and peeing on the
side of the road, you've probably been running races that bother
stocking port-a-potties along the way.
In the suffering that comes along with running we find our
common humanity though. We've all been equipped with roughly
the same craft to transport our brains around this planet, and
runners are like plucky mechanics comparing how they've hacked
those machines. With that in mind I'm passing this book on to
Bethany, who will be running with Cara on the 4th and running
her first marathon with me in November in Savannah. Hopefully
she doesn't get too caught up in the author calling 4:26 a slow
time because I know that after all Cohen's self deprecation it
made my as yet unachieved 5 hour goal seem rather paltry.
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