Tom Said He Wouldn't Be My Friend if I Didn't Blog

Greetings all,

Joe Byrne here, reporting live from Chicago where my phone tells me it's 18 degrees with a Real Feel (TM) of 13. So I've got that going for me, which is nice. Tom tells me some of you may be wondering what happened to that one guy who showed up in Philadelphia that one time, the one who huffed and puffed and wheezed his way a couple of miles up and down the lovely riverside path that you're probably all too familiar with. Well, I have been running, albeit a bit less frequently as of late. Cold weather, snow, laziness, long days at work, a dog that needs to be walked and entertained, and attempts at having some semblance of a life, all conspire to make running 5 days a week (16 miles on Saturday Lowell says!) a less than attractive prospect.

To echo what Cristin (or Dubai C. as I like to think of her) wrote, the desire to run this marathon is a bit in question. Would i like to finish a marathon? Absolutely. Would i be crushed if an ankle gave out and the doctor said I couldn't run it? Maybe not. The time commitment required to prepare for this is a bit daunting. I lead a relatively simple life, so i can't even begin to imagine the sacrifice and determination required by many of you with families to stick with this. I'm impressed with all your efforts and you should all really take a moment to congratulate yourselves for all the hard work you've put in thus far. My knowing that the rest of you are out there, running around the highways and by-ways of the greater Philadelphia metro area, helps to get me out on a frost-bitten Tuesday night (oh interval training! what joy!).

I like how i feel after I run. I like that I've lost some weight. I like that I am totally sexier now than I was in August (that part is, I suppose, open to debate). But man, the running itself is just not all that thrilling. When I ran my first 16-miler I wished that I had my transit card to hop on a bus that would whisk me away and back to my couch. But I pressed on. I pressed on because I had told someone I was going to run 16 miles and there was no way I was going to see them later and say, "oh, well yeah... I just ran 9 miles instead...". I pressed on because you all press on. Whether it's the fear (or the hope?) that Tom will de-friend us if we don't run, or something nobler (pride, determination, insanity) that pushes you onward, you're doing it. I'm trying to do it. And by george, come April 11, I'll be planting one foot in front of the other for (hopefully) 4 hours and I'm sure a part of me will be enjoying it.

Sorry, it's early and I don't even know what I'm saying right now, so apologies for such an incoherent post. Tom demanded a post from me and he got it. What he, and no doubt each of you, is now realizing is that you were all doing fine without rambling run-on sentences from that one dude in Chicago. And now for the most important question... anyone up for liquid brunch at the Bishop's Collar? Meet you there in 15 minutes.