Today is the L.A. Marathon, an event I've never trained for, or even understood. The thought of running and running and running some more, from one end of the city to the other, a big sprawling city, no less, seems completely insane and misguided, but best of luck to y'all who are out there doing it right now. Keep running. You've got a long way to go. If it's all the same, the SJG will stay home and not watch you run. For watching you run will bring back the trauma I endured a few years back, when the gals and I unknowingly scheduled a birthday lunch on the day of the Marathon. The Westsiders made it to the Ivy with little tsouris. The Valley gals? We got stuck and rerouted and dramatically delayed. I left my car somewhere on Doheny, above Santa Monica Boulevard, and started walking. It was the only time I've ever seen real marathoners, out there, doing their marathon thing, huffing and puffing and ready to plotz, and I'd be lying if I told you these people looked happy. They looked a little bit deranged, a little bit, "Why did I think this was a good idea?" It wasn't. Keep running. Today could've been a repeat of that nightmare. We scheduled lunch again at the Ivy, but thank God, Kyle, busy exec that she is, remembered that today is the marathon and spared the SJG the March Madness of it all. But please, don't let that stop you from running or watching people run and run some more. There are some things I'll never understand, and this is definitely one of them.