The Runner's Sabbath 4/16/10

My four-miler today was the last run before the marathon on Sunday. Tomorrow I do nothing-no running, no working, no signaling turns while driving, no driving, no folding of linens, no slaughtering of animals, no flossing of teeth, no blogging. Well, I don't put much work into this- as you've probably already figured out- so, I'll probably type a few disconnected sentences, slap a nearly-clever title on it, and send it out to the world. Thank Al Gore for the Internet! If I had to do this on a stone tablet with a chisel, it would definitely break the strictures of "The Running Sabbath," as laid out in The Runner's Bible. I will attempt to paraphrase.

We are supposed to save all our energy for The Big Event, not expend our glycogen on trivialities like buttering our Eggos. A runner doesn't want to blame his collapse at mile 22 on the calories he lost the day before clipping his own toenails. My wife has been very understanding in this regard. Thanks to her, I will not have to walk the dog, brush my own teeth, or put my own feet up on the couch. She will read the entire paper to me, so that I won't have to put on my own glasses. And, if there is any complaining on her part, but I will decline to argue with her- as I can't spare the saliva- and she'll give up when she realizes that, if she wants an opponent, she'll have to play Devil's Advocate.

The sloth will end, hopefully, at 7:30 Sunday morning, when the starting gun goes off. I can only hope that my get-up-and-go will actually go at that time. Even I know that I'm not going to be able to get my wife to do the race for me. But, afterwards, when I'm tired, stiff, and hobbling, then I can invoke the stricture known in The Runner's Bible as "The Stricken Marathoner's Infirmity," to score a popsicle and a leg rub.

Thanks for humoring me, Amy.