This weekend is “marathon weekend” here in Orlando. I didn’t realize what a big deal it is until it was on the bottom ticker of the news this morning.
It’s the 20th anniversary of the WDW marathon. I guess that’s a pretty big deal. My hat is off to the 95 people who are doing it for the 20th time in a row. Now that’s impressive.
I must admit, the most proud of myself that I’ve never been was crossing the finish line of a marathon. As an adult, it’s rare that we ever push ourselves to the limits (either mentally or physically). Think about it, when did you go as far as you could’ve possibly gone?
Don’t get me wrong – I’m not runner. Heck, I can’t even run 1 mile with out stopping. But light a fire under my butt, and I can walk for miles! 26.2 miles to be exact. With my short, stubby legs and wild arm pumping (think speed walkers … now stop laughing …), I’ve maintained a lightning 14 min/mile pace for pretty much every race I’ve ever done.
I’m not doing the marathon tomorrow. A part of me wants to. A part of me always wants to. I want the attention and the feeling of ultimate euphoria that washes over you when you realize you’ve done something that less than 1% of the population has the balls to do.
I’ll be with my roommate doing the COLOR RUN in downtown Orlando. Should be a rockin’ good time! And I doubt I’ll be sore OR loose any toe nails!