Run Forest Run

Through the years I've had many bright ideas. Pouring ice cream into a deep fryer and believing I could get deep fried ice cream. Spraying Raid into my air conditioner vent because I couldn't figure out where else these spider ants were coming from inside my car, and thus creating Raid-O-Car where the smell is so strong, ants in various lawns are dying just whiffing the toxic smell as I drive past. And, finally FaceX which is a computer program I want to create where a phone can take a picture of anything in the world, and information will dispense on it's history, impact in the world, and if it's a product, where and at what cost you can buy it. Of those three, let's just say one of them sent forth a wrath from our fraternity house chef in my direction so strong, that she would still remember it to this day.

In my latest "bright ideas", I convinced my buddy Timmy to run the Disney marathon with me. 26.2 miles. Using our legs. Continuously. In one motion. Towards the finish line. Where glory will be ours. Or a stretcher. Or in Timmy's case, a heaping pile of burgers and fries. You may remember Tim from previous posts where I have gluttonized the poor boy because of his eating habits. During my bachelor party, we went to an all you can eat steakhouse. He ate for two hours. TWO HOURS! Without stopping! He's a machine. When he runs a marathon, he's going to write a book called "The Eater's Guide To Running A Marathon", and there's going to be a picture of him at the end of the race with a plate of spaghetti in one hand and a hot dog in the other.

Editors Note..."One of the pictures in the middle is of Tim combining the spaghetti and the hot dog. It's not for the faint of heart."

Tim has already asked me if instead of Gatorade at each mile marker, if they will provide food. Disney would not return my phone calls.

While we are training, we have to run three or four times a week. The weekends are our long runs. Yesterday, I ran nearly ten miles and it felt like I was running for hours. To the point where it felt someone else was moving my legs and I didn't have control over them.

But, hey, 16 more and we would have completed our mission.

Good God, what have we gotten ourselves into?

We are 83 days away and counting!

P.S. Is it bad that, recently I had a dream about running the marathon and I woke up in a panic? I don't need a dreamologist to tell me I'm having anxiety about this!