Marathon in jeopardy? I hope so!

If any of you were wondering about that window-rattling boom that originated in southeastern Pennsylvania this past Monday evening, that was my head exploding. At around 7:15, I walked in the door to a phone call from Fred, and I answered in the hopes that he was calling to cancel this Sunday's run. He was actually calling with more interesting news: "Dude. You were just a question on Jeopardy." As a lifelong Jeopardy devotee, I thought his call a cruel trick, payback for bringing the word "interval" into his life. But when another friend sent along this screen shot:
my head proceeded to inflate faster than a crash test air bag. Ego came gushing out of my ears, filling our living room and threatening to drown us all. (If you've seen this on Facebook this week--yeah, I'm still not over it.)

As I catch Jeopardy on most evenings, I was crushed that I wasn't watching when the question came up, though it was probably for the best. I'm sure I would have passed out, dropped the baby, or pizza-tossed the dog. Being part of a Jeopardy answer/question has been my life's secret ambition, so if it weren't for this marathon, I might never try to accomplish anything ever again. No races. No contests. No quizzo for me. I wouldn't attempt so much as a crossword puzzle--I would just go sit on my stoop for the next forty years and tell passersby about the night I was a $400 question. And I would leave out the part about the three lumps who didn't buzz in to answer.

Which brings me to a new ambition--to become a Jeopardy question that someone knows the answer to. Or maybe a Daily Double. Which is where the Paris Twelve comes in. Somewhere amid these many solitary miles, we might have lost interest in one of the cool things about this slog--that people are going to experience all of this with us, in a blog, in a book, and maybe a game show. A whole bunch of strangers are going to be running right with us, pulling for us, critiquing us, becoming friends we didn't know we had. I've never felt quite as lonely as I have on these long winter runs, so let's not forget that we have some company. And with each new mile and new challenge and new circumstance, we are writing a story--a story that might end up crossing Alex Trebek's sweet lips someday in that ultimate dream: 26.1 to Go, the Jeopardy category. Consider the possibilities: "What is, molasses?" "What is, Body Glide?" "What is, a stress fracture?" "Where is, the Bishop's Collar?" "What is, last place?" Post your own 26.1 to Go question/answers here. You never know who's following...