A ten page preview of the book, “The Long Run,” came with my race packet. This was a good advertising move on their part since the story involves a man, Matt, who ran the same race that I was going to with one major difference: he was run over by a charter bus. The preview comes to an abrupt halt as the charter bus makes a sharp right, plowing him down as he was bicycling to train with his friends. The back cover mentions that he lives to run a marathon, but the three year journey from being pinned under 20 tons of weight to arriving at the starting line are unexplained.

Once I returned home, I ventured into the bookstore located in the outdoor mall and found the new location for running books. They lost their prime window view and are now sandwiched between bookshelves. Physical books seem to be disappearing from brick and mortar stores, being replaced with displays of e-ink readers, puzzles and board games. I find the last remaining copy on the bottom-most shelf and take it home.

The book is inspirational to read as the athlete who can run marathons significantly faster than I, almost dies, is pieced back together and begins a difficult journey back to the road. The first one hundred pages provide biographical flashbacks, giving a background of who Matt is, his family and friends. Once you make it through the flashbacks (which I would rather do without), the slow journey back to the road commences and his running ability is questioned by the sinking reality of the situation.

Is it a book worth reading? Yes.

(ISBN-13: 978-1605292465)

Each one gets bubble wrapped and placed into a small box.  The next day I head out to the post office and slide the box across the counter to the man on the other side.  He spins it around to read the shipping address.

“Headed to Orlando?”

“Yes,” I reply.

He asks, “Is there anything fragile, toxic or hazardous that I should know about?”

“No.”

He pauses and with a serious tone asks, “Any cookies?”

He asked the guy waiting in front of me the same question, and I’m not caught off guard by it. “I already ate them all.”

“Oh.” He looks disappointed.

I choose a shipping option, pay him, and watch him put several stickers on it.  I turn around and leave, less nine Disney finisher medals.

After I read an article in Runner’s World before my subscription expired in late 2008, my knee-jerk reaction to donating finisher medals to charity was, “There’s no way I could do that.  I like them too much.”  This parallels the thought of running a half or full marathon distance for the first time:  “There’s no way I could do that.  It’s too far.”  However, I can eventually prove myself wrong and do it.

I found if I apply the same mentality of preparing for these long distances, twisting it ever so slightly, that I can part ways with these duck, mouse and dog shaped medals.  Although giving something that I would rather keep tucked away in a drawer does not makes me feel entirely great, it will make a nine people happy for a period of time.

I’ll write about my adventures in NYC next weekend which include the navigating the subways to the ferry, the race itself, the Portalet from Hell at mile 18, my parent’s opinion of the iPhone tracking application and the walk from the finish line to the hotel.

Attempting to deviate from my consistent walk/run strategy, set me back 14 minutes from 2008s race, finishing this one in 5 hours 9 minutes.

Here’s an completely unrelated picture captured at mile 16 to hold you over.

It’s the distance in miles of a road race done on foot. For those without feet, there are wheelchair divisions that do them as well.

Signed-up for:

1. U Can Finish (Orlando, FL) – 10/10
2. NYC Full – 11/7
3. OUC Half (Orlando, FL) – 12/4

Thinking about:

1. WDW Full (Lake Buena Vista, FL) – 1/9
2. Clearwater Half – 1/23

Among the common groaning about how hot and humid it is (welcome to Florida), someone out in the great expanse of cyberspace wonders if someone has an extra water bottle that they could spare. I carried a single yellow and gray water bottle with me. I later upgraded to smaller bottles where the weight is evenly distributed around your waist.

I decide to send to my old one to them since I no longer use it. They reply with a, “Thanks” and reusing the box that the re-certified hard-drive came in, I snail mail it. I feel better about myself for about an hour. Then, life resumes.

Occasionally I’ll walk by this vehicle on my way to or from my car. It was late Spring of this year when I first noticed it parked under trees that drizzled yellow pollen. It sits on the higher end of the automotive totem pole. The driver, whomever he or she is, enjoys something that I like doing.

You never know what the medals look like until you finish. This year they let people vote on the Mickey medal that you receive when you complete the full. From the voting page, they put one shiny medal between two less appealing ones. Approximately two months later they announce which one will be used: the shiny one.

This process makes me wonder on two separate occasions, “Should I sign up for it?”

One of the new folks who started working last week attempted an ultra in 2009.  His first name is a bit unusual so I Googled him out of curiosity.  Mention of the ultra is listed in the About section of his blog.  Although he quit half way into it due to foot problems, he traveled twice the distance than I have ever gone.  He also encountered flip-flop man in St. Petersburg while preparing for it.

He sits in the next building across from mine, in Building One.  If you work in that building, chances are at that I won’t see you.  I’ll have to introduce myself one of these days.