Lance Armstrong was on the Tonight Show today, and he revealed that he's pondering running the NY City Marathon. He'd run it to raise money for charity (his cancer foundation) a la P. Diddy. That would be awesome and a huge motivational boost for my training. He said he's out of running shape and would have to run slowly, but somehow I suspect his notion of slow is different than mine.
In fact, my likely race pace is not just slow, it is, according to Houston Marathon medical director John Cianca, an "insult to the distance." He goes so far as to say "a ten-minute pace arguably is not running at all." I'm guessing John doesn't do much motivational speaking.
This afternoon, I ran a route that Betina mapped out for me. It took me along the waterfront to the base of the Golden Gate Bridge and then back. It was a beautiful run on a crisp, sunny day, fighting through a stiff wind on the way out (oof) and cruising with the tailwind on the return. One of the great things about traveling around these past several weeks has been the opportunity to constantly run new trails. Every one of my long runs thus far has been run in a different city, and that should continue this weekend when I reach Los Angeles.
On the way out, I saw a fit, attractive thirty-something woman running towards me with a black shirt that had the word MOTHER in silver lettering across the front. Cool, I thought, someone who wants to prove that you can be a mother and still stay in shape. I turned around after reaching the base of the Golden Gate Bridge and caught up to her after a mile or so.
The back of her shirt contained, in the same font and color, the word F*CKER.