I received an automated e-mail telling me that my marathon pictures are ready for a marathon that I did not run. I suppose this is based on the assumption that most people who sign up for marathons actually run them, a distant mountain that I choose not to climb November of last year. This was second marathon out of ten or so that I signed up for but ended up not running.

Although I am not in shape enough to run a marathon this season, it gives me an impetus to enter into the lottery for the NYC marathon. If you wanted to run a marathon, NYC is the marathon to do. Trust me; I’ve done that one twice. My lottery number is in the 920,000 – 930,000 range. Hopefully, I won’t get selected this year but hopefully the next. Worst case, this attempt will add to the “three attempts and you’re in the following year” scenario.

Bought a new pair of shoes in December of last year but I haven’t bothered to put them on, opting for my “holey” shoes instead. The grandiose vision was to put them on on January 1st and sign up for one of those New Year’s 5K races. Instead, I read about other people blogging their New Year 5K races.

No better time like the present to get started, right?

On the way down to the first floor she asks me if I’ll be running the half marathon this weekend.  I respond with a, “No.”  Quite frankly, I haven’t been able to do long runs more than 10 miles.

“But it’s only three more miles,” she says.  It’s like I’m listening to a fitter version of myself coaxing me on.

It’s probably safe to say that I won’t be doing the full marathon in February.  There is where I usually delete the blog only to return and start over at a later point, but this time I’ll leave it up.  I should get around to re-import blog entries from prior races that I’ve done; it’s on my to-do list.

The four letter word that begins with a “w” has been busy for the past few weeks.  Last week, I managed to get three runs in during the weekday and then botched the long run for the weekend.  Instead of dragging myself slowly for 13 miles, I decided to just jog 8 instead.

I have a feeling that this will be one of those marathons that I will barely finish in the allotted time which happens to be six hours.  Hey, it will give me something to aim for.

Something instinctively tells me to look over the bridge railing on Sunday evening, as I though I saw something in the water below.

I recall hearing something heavy diving into the water Thursday evening.  Perhaps it was a bird flying away, but I do not recall hearing its wings flap.  Maybe it was a large turtle.  Yeah, that’s it, a large turtle.  There is a logical, rational explanation for everything.

Peering over the aluminum railing reveals a brown log in the water with a tapered end.  Then, it dawns on me.  I’m looking down at an alligator.  The first thought that enters my mind is, “Is that real?”

It looks so calm and relaxed in the water below.

Oh yes, it is real.

I continue on my long jog which for some reason crumbles into eight miles of walking.

Perhaps registering for a marathon instead of thinking about signing up for one will work this time around.  The one I signed-up for is in Melbourne, FL.

The first long run entailed slowly jogging 10 miles in the rain.

To add a bit of variety, I have added swimming workouts to the regimen.  There’s a clubhouse with a lap pool about two and a half miles from home that I began using.  Fortunately swimming is like riding a bike; it takes a couple of laps to get the hang of things minus the flip-turns.  Most people that I know remark, “You know it’s the end of swimming season.”

“Yeah, but it’s not cold yet,” I say in denial.

As the hour approaches half past eleven at night, I make it home.  Another run done for the week.  At the far end of the street, the old guy who always walks his dog around the neighborhood stops at the corner.  Perhaps he’ll turn right and walk away, but no, he notices me and begins walking in my direction.

“How was your walk?”

I correct, “I jogged.”

“Oh, good exercise,” he remarks.  “So, what’s new?”

I mutter, “Nothin’ much.”

“What?”

“Nothing’s new,”  I reply.  “Same old [day], same old [day].”

Failing to connect on a conversational commonality results in stating the obvious.

“Looks like you put on some weight.”

Perhaps I didn’t him correctly so I ask, “What?”

He clarifies, “You put on a couple of pounds.”

“Yeah, I know,” I admit.  “I’m trying to work it off.”

Not going to run the race that I planned to do.  It’s a tad more difficult to get back into the swing of things as I had thought.  When I hear the weather forecast over the radio, they describe things as warm during the day, thunderstorms in the afternoon and humid at night which is the typical for a Florida summer.  It’s not very inviting.

Perhaps I should give myself another month or two to get back into it.

When I returned vacation I started getting back into the swing of things.  I haven’t signed up for the race that I’m thinking about doing, a local trail race that does loops around a park.  They have a half marathon, a full marathon and a 30 miler option.  Although it would be neat to try the 30 mile race, I’ll thank myself later when I signed up for a shorter distance when that “I just want to go home” feeling kicks in.

My legs were sore the first week, and it was too humid the second week.  Those are my two excuses.  By the third week, I get back into the routine of running regularly.

Once the guys reach the beginning of the trail, they give each other high-fives and cheer aloud.  Shortly I learn that they just spent the past four days hiking across the Grand Canyon.  A sign-post about a tenth of a mile into it states that it’s approximately 23.4 miles to reach the other side.

I think to myself, “That’s pretty darn impressive.”

On that note, I think that it’s time to begin training for another marathon and what better time than to begin now.

Looked down at the trip odometer this morning and noticed this number on the dashboard.  I would have felt better if I jogged that far instead of driven it.