Marathon prep
That’s me, a few minutes ago, pinning my runner’s bib onto my marathon singlet. Which means that tomorrow morning, I’m going through with this marathon. If there’s never another post on this blog, you’ll know what happened.
You’ll note that abutting my bed is another equally narrow bed, to accommodate my roommate Regan, another marathoner. When we walked into the room and saw these little beds pushed up against each other, I said it looked like Ricky and Lucy lived here, and the cameras had just been switched off.
Amsterdam is chilly and drizzly, which everyone assures me is perfect marathon weather. The anything-goes atmosphere just reinforces what has become of Fortress America, where I expect the government to soon pass a law prohibiting untying your shoes. And the coffee here is fantastic and is served in those tiny cups better sized for shots of liquor. Which, indeed, one of the flight attendants had offered to add to my coffee.
Speaking of which, you might ask how the flight was. The food was superb — really! — and the ride was turbulence-free, and the in-flight video selection included shorts from Mr. Bean. All good. Except for being squished into an area two sizes smaller than a coffin for 12 hours. Joints and muscles I’d never heard from before seized up and complained. The airline magazine had a helpful chart of exercises one could do while seated, but I didn’t have enough room to perform them. Seated next to me was a heavy-lidded swarthy woman who once she fell asleep regaled me the rest of the flight with sweet fumes from her bowels. At one point to get fresh air I actually went and sat in one of the bathrooms. Where I could also stretch my spine.
All right. Off to bed. I’ve got something big planned for the morning. If you’d like to see the course I’ll be hobbling along, here it is. And you can visit the general site here. There are 10,000 runners registered for the full marathon. Look for me in the back. I’ll be making my way toward a Heineken.