Wherein I recount my running highlights for the year…as if any of you care.
Well, I hope Santa was nice to all of you because I’m not going to be. With all of the holiday cheer, the fake smile plastered to my face has led to migraines and a lot of pent up hostility. It’s so hard to be cantankerous during Christmas what with all the over excited kids and general feelings of goodwill in the air. I’ve learned over the years that my tiny voice spewing bitterness and loathing is no match for the Little Drummer Boy ba rump ba bum bumming in peoples’ ears.
Speaking of Little Drummer Boys, my son received the parent hating gift of Guitar Hero World Tour from Santa. That’s the one with the drum set. That’s the one with the drum sticks that make that incessant tap tap tap through the house all hours of the day. And he’s not playing Christmas tunes. I believe it’s Slipknot. Slipknot as interpreted by a ten year old amateur drummer striking plastic “drums” with no volume control.
Calgon, take me away! *
Alright, I’m going to put this list out of its misery so we can all go about our lives. I’m declaring right now that there will be NO year end running highlight list in 2009. You’re welcome. The much anticipated numero uno is…
#1 The Boylston Left
How could it not be?
The final turn in the Boston Marathon is the legendary left turn onto Boylston St. and an approximately four block run through screaming throngs of an adoring, Nitmos loving crowd to the finish. It’s the culmination of the entire Boston Marathon. For many, it’s the crowning moment of their entire running career.
I plan to run Boston again (next time in 2010!). Perhaps several times if I’m so lucky…and employed.
Despite the race going pretty sucky for me (note: do NOT eat at California Tortilla in the DC airport), there is an undeniable magical feeling when approaching that corner and realizing what lies ahead.
I did not know it at the time but Mrs. Nitmos was standing on that very corner. I’m pretty sure she had pom pons and was directing an impromptu Boylston St. Choir rendition of:
Bricka bracka firecracker
Sis Boom Bah
Rah! Rah! Rah!
At least, I think that’s what happened. But I also remember being handed a cup of Gatorade by a seven foot tall squirrel wearing a Kaiser helmet and a monocle and hissing “You vill not vinish dis race” at the previous aid station. So, who can tell what really happened?
I’m looking forward to my next Boylston left as an exclamation point at the end of a well run race. But the first, was still pretty damn exciting. I almost completely forgot about the profanity I had been spewing to myself the previous few miles.
Or the guy in the pink tutu. Or the beating I took by the Beardsley Monster. He beat me like a drum.
Ba rump ba bum bum
* And by “Calgon” I mean, “Cruzan Rum.”