Climbing Every Effing Mountain

Here. Eat these and write a blog post.

WEATHER: Cooler but still warm.  90?  Something like that.

MILES: 5.5

MILES THIS WEEK: 30?  Something like that.

WHERE TO: Dupont, Mass Ave, etc.

MOOD: Disconcertingly emotional


My dear readers, it strikes me that in order to succeed at anything, be it running or maintaining a blog that has amazingly not yet received any cease-and-desist orders from Nike, the Reston Runners, or any 5K fun runs, and indeed has yet to receive any sexual harassment complaints from (those hot little biscuits down at) Pacers Running Stores

…picking up this thread again, in order to succeed, one needs to continually be setting new goals.  It’s hard to get better at running if I keep doing the same races over and over again, with the same tired training regimens.  Likewise, it’s hard to get new readers if I keep writing about the same races and tired training regimens and hitting on the same, relatively annoyed Pacers clerks.  No, if popular culture has taught me anything, it’s that if I want a book deal or for Meryl Streep to (de-age a few years and also lower her standards greatly and) play me in the movie of my life, I apparently have to have some sort of goal around which to structure my narrative.

Furthermore, it seems that it does not matter if that goal is stupid or arbitrary or nonsensical.  Cooking my way through a cookbook?  Why not?  Not eating out for two years and–even more impressively–writing an interminable stream of some of the most self-involved prattle ever to grace the internet (and here I am including LOLcats) and somehow getting a book deal out of it, which produces a book that I WASTED MY LAST BOOK CLUB MONTH READING? <throws MacBook across room> People have done it!  Eating a 5-gallon can of gray-green school-cafeteria-grade peas every day?  I’m sure someone has blogged this.  Doesn’t matter.

So I have decided that on November 19, 2011, at the JFK 50-Miler, I will attempt to qualify for the 2012 U.S. Olympic Ultramarathon Trials.  And I am going to blog EVERY DAY ABOUT IT.  Why?  Because BORED, that’s why.  And also to document the fascinating blisters/sweating/dry-heaving that comes of training like a superhardcore-crazy-zombie-ninja-pirate-cloud-raptor person.

So put on yer ass-kickin’ boots and your sheerest nightie, make yourself a few dozen frozen pizzas, get comfortable, and watch as the dream-achieving magic happens, likely accompanied by lots of eating and a fair amount of cussing.


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