Day 94: Allergy Attack-ack-ack

As you may have gleaned by now, I'm a big fan of rewarding myself. I want the most possible reward for basically putting forth the least amount of effort. If there was a crowd of people congratulating me for crawling out of bed every morning, or perhaps breathing at a reasonably sturdy rate, I'd be all for it. To prove this point, I was so pleased with my performance on my 16 mile run, that I essentially rewarded myself with three days off from training - Mazel Tov to myself, I say! Yes, I realize that giving myself time off from my training schedule as a reward is like giving a man who has days to live a lottery ticket for a drawing that's three months away, but it worked on my psyche, and that's all that matters.  This, like the time I dyed my hair jet black and my decision to support Gwen Stefani as a solo artist, proved to be a terrible mistake. 



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Day 90: My Super Sweet 16

Feeling uncharacteristically buoyant after the success of the 7th Annual Summer Hope Benefit, I decided it was time to make it out for my long(est) run Sunday morning. In days passed, the afterglow of Summer Hope would have kept me feeling a sense of entitlement that would've stretched well into my marathon training. "I don't need to run, because I hosted a successful cancer benefit 48 hours ago." I realize that one has nothing to do with the other, but as a sociopath-in-training I usually ignore such obvious logic.


This was different, however. I felt positively buoyant after the benefit this year, and wanted that feeling to continue. Announcing my candidacy for the 2009 NYC Marathon to 225 people at my foundation's annual soiree like Howard Dean on a bad mushroom trip didn't hurt as far as motivation either. It was time to put everyone's money where my mouth had been. It was time to run.


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Day 89: Summer Hope Breakdown

The training routine, has gotten, admittedly less intense. I suppose that's not really accurate, it's not the routine, actually, that has gotten any less intense but rather me. I suppose this was a pretty standard course of action for me - get close enough to a goal to sniff it, and then back away. There's a reason why people refer to themselves as their own worst enemy. Darth Vader or Megan Fox are easier to vanquish than your inner-desire to fail. I found myself on fumes these last couple of weeks, finding excuse after excuse to fail. I also found myself wishing that The Biggest Loser would come back from hiatus early, so that I could see some fat people with real issues, and Jillian Michaels make them realize that they hated themselves for it.

The current course of excuses comes from a good source at least: The Summer Hope Benefit. As I've mention right here in this very blog, The Summer Hope Foundation is the non-profit organization that I founded in 2002, to support the fight against cancer. I make up for starting this non-profit and helping sick people through there difficult times, by not holding the door open for old ladies. Or, at least, not smiling when I do. The world needs balance, and I'm just doing my part to tip the scales back in favor of douchebaggery.

On Friday, September 11th, 2009, The Summer Hope Foundation hosted it's 7th Annual Summer Hope Benefit, united 225 guests together against cancer, raised $55,000 and worked off more pounds than the 40 minutes of cross-training I skipped.


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Day 85: WHY GOD!?!?! WHYYYYYY!!!!!

THIS HAS BECOME AN EPIDEMIC!!! WHY DOESN'T SOMEONE TELL YOU!?!?!?!? WHY DOESN'T SOMEONE TELL YOU ABOUT THE PAIN! DEAR GOD, THE AGONY!

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Day 79: Speed Racer

Unlike Maverick and Goose, I don't have the need. The need for speed. Nor do I have the need for homoerotic volleyball grudge matches / eye sodomy, but that's neither here no there. The truth of the matter is, in training for the marathon, the time in which I finished was never on my mind as much as the physical shape I'd be in when I finished - mainly alive vs. dead. 


However, that all started to change when I realized that my potential marathon running buddy, Heathaaaa, was clocking in at solid, if not spectacular 9-ish minute mile. Heathaaaa and I would like to start this race together - after all, she is Jilly's cousin, and we are both part of the completely-made-up-but-still-incredibly-important Ed's Team for Fred's Team. All of our friends and family (shared and otherwise) would be cheering for both of us at mile 9 and again at mile 18, wearing our commemorative t-shirts, as we had in the years passed. However, I was currently testing the limits of our we're in this together mentality by running about 2 1/2 minutes slower than Heathaaaa. That would mean our fans would have to get wait about 30 minutes after she passed to cheer for me in Brooklyn, and then make it up to the Upper East Side in time to spot Heathaaaa dash by, and still squeeze in time for a few pre-ceremony brews. Clearly, I was going to have to step up my game.


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