We went to Palm Beach, Florida, for a wedding over the weekend. The world’s smallest treadmill resides at the West Palm Marriott Courtyard in case you’re ever in the neighborhood… Saturday’s morning run was along the supremely flat ‘Lake Trail’ in 87-degree/80% humidity. Saw maybe four runners over two hours, so we don’t think Palm Beach will be hosting the next ‘Runners Without Borders’ convention. Pretty, but boring, kind of like Paris Hilton.
And then it was back to NYC on Monday, only to find out it was 12 degrees with a wind chill of -6. High winds delayed the landing by about an hour, so that meant sitting on the plane in FL for over an hour (one guess: Jetblue, apologizing every five minutes) and circling NYC for a while once we got here. Lotsa fun, especially as the quads and hamstrings froze in a non-upright, locked position.
Anyway, enough about you. This Florida running got us to thinking, always a bad thing. What was the worst course you ever ran? Race, fun run, short run, you call it, as long as it sucked out loud.
As for your Cranky Runner, it would be the 14th St Bridge/Pentagon City/GW Parkway route/area in D.C. It’s the last few miles of the Marine Corps Marathon, and there’s no shade, few spectators, and the best sights are behind you; and then there’s that frickin’ hill at the end so you can recreate the assault on Iwo Jima. We’re not joking.
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Hey brother, satan-you wanna hear about my worse race? My initial thought was, "There were none-they were all great" but then I realized I was in denial and then quickly remembered my first Boston, after the infamous Heart Break Hill. I was already exhausted from mile 16 and on. I distinctly remember one morbid thought after mile 21; I was seriously thinking about how a bullet in my brain would feel better than the Hellish miles ahead of me to the finish. God, I hated that damn marathon and it makes me feel so unamerican to even admit that but there it is. Thanks for letting me vent!
Had I done Boston, I probably would've thought worse things, like a bullet to the brain... and everyone else's! At least you didn't 'externalize'. Then again, at that point in the marathon, that would take too much energy.
Anyway, you're not un-American, but downright patriotic by not letting the whole damn thing evolve into a hostage situation.
Don't give me ideas!
Okay whiners, H has now re-entered the scene!!!Just to pipe in and say that yes, Boston can be worse than needles to the eyes, or three screaming kids and no husband in sight, oh wait, that's my life (minus the needles). HEY mr S. how about you put a link to my program on your nifty running blog - www.nncc.us/programs/programs_runphilly.html
how come when I posted it said my name was "students" I'm gonna get hooked on this &%$**# blog. At least it gets me back in therapy with my crew. Okay, lemme give you an update. I haven't run outside in a gagillion years because of the three chickens that "hold me down" but I am kicking it on the treadmilllllll. I do remember that our Maine girl trained for an entire frickin marathon on a treadmill. Now that has to be the worst.
H !!!!
Glad to hear from you, and that link is up lickety-split. Sorry to hear that the chickens got you down, so to speak, but I'm sure it's all for a good cause, and a treadmill can be, well, helpful.
And I have to confess, I was seen on one recently when the temperature outside was in the single digits. But it would have to suck big time to train on one for weeks at a time.
Anyway, hang in there... more running silliness on the way...
ahhhhh, the treadmill. First of all, let me third that emotion that the Boston course is like when mean kids set cats on fire and laugh as they run frantically down the street. Except in this scenario, your quads are the cats. I think I smelled like smoke for a week. Who's dissing my tread!? I did a 20 miler on that bad boy once. It was at the gym in the dead of winter. I started to hallucinate and imagined everyone in the gym breaking into song simultaneously to "Fat Bottomed Girls" (they do make the rockin' world go 'round, doncha know). Good times. Welcome to the blog H! How's them chickens?
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