And I ran… I ran so far away

OK so the title is a little misleading.  I ran so far away, but only because I drove there first.  Then I ran a relatively short distance.  This weekend I ran in my first ever 5k race, The Race for Hope in Washington, DC.  For those of you who have never run in a race before, this is a great start, because it is all very flat, and it is for a great cause (  This year there were over 8000 participants and we raised over 1.75 million dollars for brain tumor awareness.  Check out the website, you can still donate!  I finished in 549th place for the men.  Not too shabby considering that I was probably the fattest guy that was running out there.  If I wasn’t the fattest, then by the end of the race I was at least the sweatiest.  As usual, the gods laughed and laughed as another athletic event involving yours truly was showered not by rain, but by blazing hot sun-rays.  The only thing that kept me from collapsing into a fat, sweaty heap that nobody would dare touch to give CPR to, was the shade that the trees lining the streets gave off.  It must have been amusing for the other runners to watch me run back and forth from one side of the street to the other, following the shade wherever it would happen to be.  A 5k race is supposed to be 3.2 miles, but I’m thinking I probably ran closer to 4 with all of my unnecessary out of route miles. 

As impressed as I was with myself for not only finishing the race, but for finishing the race without stopping (except to tie my shoe when it came untied within the first 30 seconds of the race), this achievement was dwarfed by the performances of two of my friends, Ben and Richard. 

I arrived in DC around 6pm Saturday night, only to find that most of my friends were already at the bar, watching the Flyers vs Canadians game.  “Hmmm.  They must be getting some food”  I thought to myself.  What I found there was not food, but instead buckets of ice cold beers.  It had never crossed my mind that there would be drinking this night, even though this is what we do 90% of the time when any of us get together.  We had a race the next morning, and I was going to have enough problems finishing it stone sober, let alone with a lingering hangover.  Many of my friends had just a few beers during the game, and that was that.  But two men took a stand and spit in the face of moderation.  Ben ordered Richard a V.O on the rocks (This drink has an interesting effect on Richard.  Think about when the Gummy Bears would drink the gummiberry juice, only instead of giving him the power to bounce incredibly high and fast, V.O gives him the power to become belligerentand creepy).  Ben then orders himself a Red Bull and Vodka, a drink that his undersized Quaker liver can not process properly.  The rest of the night continues on with more of the same, until it is time to go home, and Ben pronounces “Man, I feel great, this beer is fucking awesome!” and Richard, while walking out of the bar, into the hallway before the outside exit, says, “Whoa… why are the fucking lights so bright, Jesus”, and nearly trips over an invisible obstacle in the center of the hallway.  I laugh on the inside, because I know that these two had to wake up in a few short hours to run over 3 miles, and given their tendency to become violently hungover and useless, I knew that this would mean something hilarious would happen the next day, if someone could get them out of bed at all. 

Much to my disappointment, both Ben and Richard showed up to the designated meeting spot (a deli… the Jewish kid picked it, go figure) in plenty of time for the race.  Both made it up and I was already impressed.  Even more impressive was when I saw Richard “Carboloading” 20 minutes before the race with a sausage, egg, and cheese bagel purchased from said deli.  “This is going to be hiularius”, I said to anyone that would listen.  I was positive that by the .5 mile marker, at least one of them would have vomited on another unsuspecting runner, hopefully starting some sort of vomiting chain reaction, like when Lardass Hogan drank the bottle of Castor Oil and the raw egg before the big pie eating contest. 

                                  “What could have been”

This, of course, didn’t happen.  As a matter of fact, nothing happened.  Ben finished the race, approximately 5 minutes before my sober ass crossed the finish line.  Richard finished the race also, although a minute or two behind me.  I think next year, I might try the whiskey. 



One Response to “And I ran… I ran so far away”

  1. you failed to mention how richard was jonesing for some action before the derby, called his bookie, made a bet based on random numbers, and then laughed when belles got euthanized.

    verily, he is my hero.

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