Change of Pace

La-di-diddle-dee-dummm...let's see what came in the mail today....bills, bills, bills. Hum, New York Road Runners? This must be my registration card for the marathon. Ohh, I might as well hold on to it and go check out the marathon expo. And I paid my hundred bucks, so why not go get the t-shirt too? Then, all of a sudden, my eyes zeroed in on the race number, and the room went silent.


What is it about a low race number? Is it just me that looks on in awe as all those single-digit speedsters fly by? What would it feel like to stand on the line with that big "F1" on your chest? Now F240 isn't anywhere near that impressive, but still, in a huge race full of four and five digit race number, it would be pretty damn cool to be out there with a low three-digit pinned to my "delusions of grandeur" filled self. It actually made me think again about running the thing next month, even though I've been totally at peace with my decision to hold off on the marathon thing and focus on running a respectable 10K. My boyfriend pointed out that maybe it would be worth using my number to justify running if I'd gotten 262 (of course, I'd have to draw in the decimal point on that one). But this is my 240th post according to blogger.com. Could that be a sign? Oh, wait, no...this post brings the count to 241, no sign there after all.