It’s my birthday!

I am celebrating having survived 37 years, I guess.  I met a runner last time I was buying shoes who says he runs a mile for every year he’s been alive on his birthday.  He’s about my age, and his birthday is in February/March (I don’t remember exactly).  It’s hard enough for me to imagine running 37 miles today.  I’ve never run more than 10 miles in one go.  I might do a half-marathon someday,  but I have very little interest in training for a marathon.  And then to go beyond 26.2?  To be an ultra-marathoner?  That just takes up SO MUCH TIME.  I have other things I want to spend my time doing.

Anyway, if I were following that guy’s model, I’d have to run 37 miles today.  Today.  In February.  Sure, I’m in Oregon right now, and sure, it’s not as cold as it would be if I were in Annapolis, but no.  No, thank you, I’m doing just fine.  I’ll celebrate in another way.

4 Comments

  1. The Wombat

    Happy belated birthday! If running is your thing (vs. napping, which I also strongly endorse), maybe you could just run those 37 miles at some point during your 37th year. Seems like a win.

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