Last weekend was Back on My Feet's 3rd Annual 20in24. And what, pray tell, is a 20in24? It is many things. It's a 24-hour race to complete as many laps around the 8.4-mile Schuylkill River Trail as possible. It's a relay. It's a Midnight Madness Run. It's a Pajama Loop. It's sanity sucking black hole of madness that locks you in a glass case of emotion, throws you into the river, picks you up, gives you a big wet kiss, and leaves you standing where it found you, humbled, happy, tired, and really sick of soft pretzels and Gu. It is awesome.
Every member of Back on My Feet descended upon Philadelphia to lend a hand in any way we could. So from 5:30 a.m. on Saturday morning until 2 p.m. on Sunday afternoon, I shuttled volunteers, carried ice, handed out water, worked a rest stop, took temperatures, tracked runners, ran 17 miles, collected trash, and slept not a wink. Unless you count that time Jordan found me lying face down in the grass outside his tent some time around 5 a.m. But I was just collecting myself. And I loved every second of it. Mostly. Just about.
And speaking of Jordan? That asshole ran 93 miles in that 24 hours. 93 miles. And he farted the entire way, obviously. 93 miles is ridiculous. 93 miles is just retarded. And do you know what it's like running with someone who is in the process of running 93 miles? I was on my best behavior. You cannot be an asshole when you are running with someone who is running 93 miles. And you sure as hell can't talk about how tired you are because you haven't slept in two days. You can't even make fun of them for farting.
If they want you to carry their mushy peanut butter and jelly sandwich that you made for them the day before and may or may not have spit in, then you better carry that peanut butter and jelly sandwich. If they want you to wear their fuel belt like a pack animal, then you saddle up like the donkey you are. If they want you sing an Eminem verse with one mile to go before your pacer lap ends, then you pull out your favorite oversized chain necklace and get your Slim Shady pants on.
93 miles later and still
an asshole smiling.
And all throughout those 24 hours, my mind teetered somewhere between "I TOTALLY want to try to run 100 miles" and "you couldn't convince me to do this for all the chocolate Teddy Grahams and Get Out of Blow Job Free Cards in the world."
To say that I was inspired this weekend is putting it lightly. I got to spend some time in the fox hole with the amazing people I work with. I got to see some great Philly friends. And I got to spend some much needed time with the familia in the city that I love the most. And good GAH I love that city. Thank you, home, you did me well.
And all of this came just in time because guess what season it is, errbody!! It's MARATHON TRAINING SEASON!!1! And GODDAMNIT that came around fast. This year, I plan on getting a little more serious about training. And by that I mean I hope to somehow run faster while still maintaining my regularly scheduled program of aggressive consumption of alcohol and cream donuts. I predict this will go quite well. Tweet